The Great Arc
by Moss Moe
Summary: Life in the Beta Quadrant is hard on Starfleet. It spits on the followers of the Orion Syndicate and Klingon Empire. It squeezes the life from those who want nothing but peace as Romulans of the Republic. It turns and cuts through your ranks with the Fek'Ihri. It enslaves you as the offspring of the Gorn Hegemony. Who will live? Who will die? Who will become great? Then perish?
1. Story Notice

**Dear readers, future and past.**

I would like to start by offering a thank you to all of you who have read this far, or for those of you who are about to start reading. Unfortunately, for more experienced readers, the early chapters, and the story in it's whole, is riddled with hypocrisy, continuity errors, and general problems in conflict with established cannon. Most of all there are major problems with spelling and grammar.

In my defense I began writing this fanfiction back when I had only just convinced my family to begin watching the Star Trek TOS, I had very little experience other than Star Trek Online (Which is a poor source of information).

I have decided to rewrite this story in a slightly more appealing and original fashion. Disclaimer: my primary aversion to the Star Trek reboot is the fact that all the main cast are simply given their positions after saving earth. (Not even Lieutenant Hopper in Battleship did that, he just got promoted and posted to another ship) And in The Great Arc i did the same thing with Patrick Reddy.

Another problem is the name of the main character. Originally I felt fine about this small plagiarism of Taylor Anderson, I almost felt it was something of a compliment and an advertisement of Mr. Anderson's work. I also used the name _Walker_ that I learned from his works as well. I have decided that using the name was not exactly the most honorable thing to do, seeing as Mr Anderson has not released _Destroyermen_ up to outside works.

The most important part is my sense of modesty. I started The Great Arc as something of a sexual fanfiction story with a bit of backstory so you knew the characters before they started getting it on. Upon the release of this message, I will be erasing all of the chapters that include explicit content. Star Trek has pushed the boundaries of many social problems, but I doubt they'll ever push the boundaries of sexual content in something meant for a general audience. I will still have relationships and some scenes, but nothing more explicit than what you would see in a Star Trek movie or TV show.

Some things you might ask.

 **When will the rewritten version come out?**

Well. . .that could be awhile. Inspiration drives my productivity, and currently college takes up about half of my time. I tend to write the entire stories together and publish them in large blocks, with the pilot story being extra long. I will leave the old version up for future readers as well as the rewritten new version.

 **What should I do in the mean time?**

Find another person to read, read my stuff, rant about CBS and Star Trek Discovery. I don't know, why are you asking me?

 **Can I pitch in?**

 _YES!_ I've always asked this of the readers of this fanfiction, and I ask it of you. Please submit as much as you like through Private Message, please submit it as an outline and have an amount of detail into it. If you talk to me enough I can work with you to make a good story.

 **Any spoilers?**

 _ **NO, not now, not ever.**_

 _ **Okay, I'll start the series in the year 2408 and continue from there.**_

If enough people are reading this, thanks.

Peace and long life.


	2. The Great Arc: Intro

**2409 (Season 1)**

The galaxy is on the edge of turmoil in 2409, Klingon raiders under Captain Kadek poach Federation space and pounce upon brand new cadets of the renowned Starfleet, a new style of Orion government is rising under an unknown Orion captain funded by the House of Martok, while S'lar, a Gorn officer, begins to rebuild the Hegemony with the help of Gorn Seperatists.

While the Empire struggles internally from conflict among it's houses and the Tal Shiar, the Federation is on the edge of collapse as it's fleet of once powerful ships dwindle down to frigates and short range vessels. It is now torn by it's own members, Vulcans demanding that more Vulcan ship captains without going through the proper six year course at Starfleet Academy, Andorians demanding their own fleet and the Council ordering that a more diverse band of captains become the norm. And Federation Council's attempts to pacify Starfleet do no military force any good. And yet in the midst of this is a Borg invasion in the Vega system, with only around eight hundred surviving not to be assimilated, the Borg are now reinforced by the millions of people in the system.

Among these refugees, political figures, backstabbers, cutthroats, and few good men, three captains are forced to adapt and fight and learn to live with the terrors of space and the Beta Quadrant. From the class of 2409 is Lt. Commanders Samantha O'Connell and her classmate, and former shipmate, Patrick Reddy. Their ships both encounter the test of the Beta Quadrant on the first day, _Walker_ is crippled while _Chillingsworth_ , with both Reddy and Samantha on board, comes to the rescue and leaves Reddy and a security team behind when driven off by heavy resistance. With the Captain and First Officer dead, Second Officer too shocked to take command, and Third Officer indisposed, Reddy is left to take command of _Walker_ and captain her through the most important of her life. On _Chillingsworth_ the captain has been captured and First Officer wounded, Sam, being Third Officer, is given command and gives it her all, which is just enough. Although considered a scandal, both commanders fill their roles admirably and are given command by the end of the training duration, the month of January. However disaster strikes while the _Walker_ returns home when it is called to Pollux IV and ambushed by a Borg vanguard.

Amidst the fighting the Borg advance on Vega IX, a small colony of roughly 2.8 million, where they achieve a stronghold with thunderclap surprise. So quick was their attack, that barely eight hundred survivors are left alive, and only through luck did Lt. Cmdr. (Retired) Archibald "Dallas" Sumner survive to service and launch the USS _Kolibri_ , a _Nova-_ class science vessel left in the mountains if ever needed to assist in mining operations, and make it to safety. When reinstated as a full commander, the once married man in his thirties has a ship to command and a wife to find, his journey will take him from one side of the known galaxy to the other, and it will not be easy. For his crew is built from the survivors he escaped with from Vega IX, and will have the same problem coping with the loss of their family and home just as must.

While Sumner commands his ship, Reddy and Samantha will experience their own problems and conflicts as they are tasked to track down and destroy the Klingon presence in Federation Space, and what they don't know is that someone is watching them from the dark recesses of the Federation government.

The story goes on, and is currently expanding as it is uploaded in 2000-3000 word parts. Rated M for slightly mild language and the occasional romantic/physical scene (Such scenes will be marked Explicit for viewer discretion, such scenes will involve little or no information into main story and if so the information will be recapped in the next part).

Story is constantly expanding with uploads every few days depending on author's free time.

 **Please enjoy and offer feedback of anykind!**


	3. The Great Arc: Pilot Part One

Here it is, part one! Please enjoy and forgive how clumsy it may sound.

 **Part 1: Training Course**

"Enter." Came the voice of Commander Kel'chak Alexander.

Cadet Jacques Reddy entered to see the small, almost human sized, Klingon sitting behind his desk at the far corner of his office, surrounded by boxes and recommendation papers, he was busy leaning over a certain folder. The thing that struck Cadet Reddy as strange was the look of this Klingon, he had almost human features, a smaller forehead and a less bulky body the class of 2409 had been shown, he looked more like the 23rd century Klingons Reddy had seen in the holo-programs and documentaries about men like Commander Ross and Captain Kirk. He took into account that Alexander was indeed half human, yet he was surprised by what he saw.

Commander Kel'chak (He was nicknamed that to make adressment more formal sounding) looked up. "Front and center."

Reddy hurried over and threw a salute, reporting in.

Kel'chak looked at the file in his hands, Reddy became nauseated when he realized it was his. The salute was returned.

Reddy stood rigid at attentions for several minutes before Kel'chak looked up. "Cadet, do you know why I called you here?"

"No, sir." Reddy's throat was dry as bone.

"Do you want to know, Cadet?"

"Yes sir."

Kel'chak stood and came around the table, leaning against it's front, less than a foot from Reddy. "I've been reviewing your file, and I happened to notice you had not yet taken the advanced phaser training course. Something quite required of a tactical officer." he looked at Reddy, waiting for an excuse.

"All due respect sir, but I have spent my curriculum training to be a Tactical officer working weapons, not a security officer, I intend not to spend my time guarding doors but either in a Fire Control room or similar location." He knew it was risky speaking like that, and he was well aware of the consequences, he decided to add some more on. "I also decided that, since the operator of the course was elsewhere occupied, I would wait until today to take the course, it turns out they" he almost said their gender "were also unable to attend today."

Kel'chak didn't seem to notice the subtle tone of disgust that Reddy tried desperately to hide. "Both you, and Cadet Triss didn't take the test, and the same worker yesterday was the same as today." He must have actually heard the tone. He straightened and walked back around his desk, opening the file on Cadet Sarah Triss. "Cadet Triss should be waiting outside, I want you to collect her and head over to the holodecks, I'll send for Cadet Flores to be waiting for you."

"Yes, sir." Reddy saw light at the end of his long tunnel of fear.

"Dismissed, Cadet."

Reddy came to attention, turned about, and marched from the room. As he heard the door slide shut behind him he blew out a massive sigh of relief. Cadet Triss was nearby, sitting in the chairs lining the wall outside of Kel'chak's office. She stood as he approached.

"Pat?" She asked, commonly using his middle name. "Didn't know you were here still."

Reddy took her by the arm and led her away, he didn't speak until they were out of the building. "The Commander was on to me for not taking the advanced phaser course, I didn't know you hadn't either."

Irritation showed in Sarah's eyes, her tall, lean, and sexy body showed it as well. "Bloody Elisa Flores wouldn't let me, I visited five minutes before the decks closed and she was already packing up and leaving for the local waterhole." Her English accent was tight and sharp as she spoke.

"Something of the same for me lass, I had some extra time around lunch between exams and she took the _entire_ time to eat her's." Reddy knew that some people savored lunch, yet he knew she was procrastinating because she could have set the programs up, then eaten and transferred the results once she was done. Instead she had completely denied both cadets of their required courses.

Sarah swore fowly under her breath, "She wasn't there this morning either, what did he have to say about it?" she jerked her head in the direction of the Commandant Offices, the home of captains of training cruisers and captains getting ready to take a cadet unit out on their first assignment.

Reddy glanced back and sighed. "He told me to get you and get over to the holodecks, he is going to have Flores set the programs up for us."

"Lot a good that will do, she may just fail us for no reason at all."

"She's under orders from the Commander now, I doubt she'll have to be subtle and just give us low grades."

"I don't think officer orders ever stopper her." Triss started off in the direction of the holodecks, which were neatly housed in the same building as the shuttle hangar and the mess.

Halfway across the quad, a thought struck Reddy and he swore like a sailor.

Triss looked at him as they walked. "Pardon?"

"I swear, if he intends to put me in a security slot, I'm going to mistake him for a Klingon warrior in disguise." It was logical, there was a couple dozen more qualified cadets, with higher grades, who would be taking up the tactical officer slots, he would be lucky to make a marine team with those statistics.

Triss laughed. "I'm sure he wouldn't blame you, did Rod ever tell you about the curfew incident."

Reddy had not, and laughed when he heard the explanation. Apparently Kel'chak had been out after curfew, busy with grading training cruise tests, and had actually be shot at. It had been before he had trimmed his hair and dyed it to look more like a human's.

They reached the main building to find a short, shorter than them at least, redhead with a rocking bombshell body, if not for the slightly too wide hips, standing with her eyes locked on her PADD. The figure was Cadet Elisa Flores, one of the top graduates who happened to despise both Triss and Reddy.

Reddy took the lead as he approached, sharpening his voice in the way the training Major had taught him. "Flores!"

Her head came up with a start, her expression soon became vile at the sight of the two. "It's pronounced Flor-es, not Floors. And I have enough pounding in my head without you yelling at me, so you would do kindly to shut up." she went back to her PADD, then looked up again. "Fuck you, you didn't go whine to the Commander because I didn't have time to hold your hands yesterday did you?"

A grin split across Triss's face. "Pounding eh? It start last night Flores?" she pronounced it the same as Reddy's own Scots accent.

Elisa's face turned red, they were speaking loudly in a populated corridor. "Just shut up okay?"

"Set up the programs, Elisa, and let's get this over with."

Elisa murmured some more low curses and set the holodecks up. "Two and Three, all for your royal. . ." They didn't stay around to listen, Elisa had nothing but fowl words for the pair.

Holodecks were fun things, they generated small environments and could populate them with combatants or just about anything imaginable. Once through the mess there were two intersecting hallways, the Club 106-shuttlebay and hall from the mess crossed before you reached the bank of holodecks, they were in the holobanks. Door after door had a holodeck behind it, up to fifteen, once at the end they found deck Two and Three. They split, Reddy in Three, Triss took Two. Outside of the holodecks were lockers containing training phasers. They both took one as well as the belts and holsters.

As Reddy heard the door sliding shut behind him he turned and caught a fleeting glimpse of Triss's back as the door obscured his view. The computer asked for him to start the simulation.

"Computer, start course: Advanced Phaser Training."

"Beginning Phaser Training Course: Advanced Level." The computer spoke, and suddenly the world morphed, changing and closing around Reddy. When it was done he realized it was like the pictures and the ship design orientation courses he had been through, he was on board some type of Klingon ship.

 _Ironic_ , he thought, _that I should be fighting Klingons, when my captain is one._

He drew his phaser from it's plastic holster and held it chin level. He was in a hallway, with a door at each end, the one to the rear was smaller, he assumed that he was in near the bridge. For a second he was tempted to take the smaller door, obviously a turbolift, but decided otherwise, the Advanced Course was a test of tactical reasoning as well as time management.

He neared the large door, searching the frame of the door for any recognizable words, none. He swore quietly, he should have paid a little more attention to the linguistic classes. Reddy straightened and hit the door release. A hiss and clang and the door shot to either side, exposing the backs of two Klingons. He whipped the pistol up and fire, missed. The second shot caught the one in the side as he turned, he fell to the ground. The second had two pistols out and shot at him, Reddy dove for the edge of the door and leaned out just as a flurry of rounds shot past the threshold. The heat of the disruptor bolts startled him, he leaned back out and returned fire, little did he know that the long beam struck the console his target had hid behind. When the circuits overheated from the pistol it blew, filling the Klingon's face with a half pound of metal. For a second there was no return fire, then a short came across the way and hit the wall above Reddy's head. He hit the floor and rolled across to the opposite side of the door, covered by the armored frame as a shot, at almost the same angle, came across at where he had been a second before.

Reddy made sure to scan the bridge across from him, he didn't want to get shot in the back when he leaned out to take care of the other targets. He saw nothing, to be safe he switched the phaser pistol over to sweep mode and drug it across the front. Nothing but sparks.

Reddy edged, ever so slowly, around the door, barely exposing more than his eye before moving farther. He set back with a start, a Klingon charged in the far mist of the bridge, a flanking maneuver. He aimed and fired. The thing beam started a length short, but didn't miss. He didn't want to see if he actually sliced the warrior in half or not. He leaned out again and saw the final target, just hanging out doing the same as he. It was a race, and he won. His shot caught the shoulder of the Klingon and tossed him back, he cast caution to the wind and charged like madman. He vaulted a set of banks and was behind the Klingon's cover. He checked bank and found the warrior, or whatever his rank was, lying with his hand over his shoulder, a great stream of red blood pouring from his shoulder. For a second he was worried, a phaser on high setting should cauterize a wound. He checked his settings and found it was on low kill.

His idiocy aside, he took the energy cuffs from his belt and clasped them around the Klingon's wrists, he was in no mood to fight anyhow, and drew his communicator. _Bugger me_ , he cursed himself, he had forgotten to set it to the training frequency. He was in hell now. Grabbing the collar of the Klingon warrior he dragged him across the floor to the center of the bridge, there wasn't any captain's chair, it was still a bridge though. He found the comms panel, swore again. His second target had been hiding behind it.

He looked up. "Computer, course complete, end simulation."

" _Simulation ending, course complete._ " The world morphed again, Klingon blood on Reddy's hands dissipated and the world was it's striped black and yellow of the holodeck again. With a sign of relief he embraced reality again. Flores was outside the door.

"I'll send these results too Commander Alexander, by the time you get to his waiting room he'll have it read and graded." She never really looked at him, only glanced from her PADD like she was too busy for him.

"How did I do?"

Elisa didn't answer, but instead made her way out. Reddy followed until he reached the exit and she split off, heading towards the building that Captain Taggert's office was in. _Figures_ , he thought, _probably failed and she won't let me have the liberty of knowing before the Commander calls me out on it._ He shook his head and strolled off towards the Commandant Offices.

It was lovely in the spring, San Francisco that is, the air was cool and Starfleet was in an area where the wind was just right so it blew the pollution off nine times out of ten. He could hear the birds singing from the trees arranged around the quad, just singing freely as if they didn't have a care, which they really didn't, and he could hear the beating of waves against the rocks to the south of the quad. The quad was of course at the end of campus, simply a place for the commandants to rest and for the graduates to take their tests and get their assignments. The testing building was on the north end, a big and fat circular building that had about twenty classrooms, it was there, with the combination of the holodecks, that all students took their exams and tests. The learning buildings were spread farther north in sections, Tactical, Science, Engineering. The San Francisco campus was the most beautiful of the Starfleet academies, yet she was home of almost a monarchy and factions. Reddy had heard of the Berlin Arm, where the attitudes were finer than the day today, he had been told that the combination of nationalities and races mixed well and the NCO Training Corps was one that was given plenty of attention. Reddy swore that if he was given an assignment, he would be hell bent on getting one there.

He hadn't heard much praise of the Beijing Arm, other than that it was hot and stuffy, he was told once or twice they were fanatics about regulations and professionalism. The common comparison was, Berlin was as relaxed as a panda, Beijing as strict as the Marine Corps, and San Francisco was somewhere in between with major problems in command and faculty structure.

He was back in the Commandant Offices, rounding the corner to the Commander's office he saw Triss emerge and tilt her head back, eyes closed. Reddy paused and watched, she seemed to focus on her breathing for a few seconds, a sweet smile on her lips. She stretched her neck and walked away, opposite. He almost missed it but, when she reached the end of the passage she jumped in jubilation. _Looks like someone has a slot._ He was still doubtful.


	4. The Great Arc: Pilot Part Two (Explicit)

**If you are young and don't plan on learning about sex, skip the end of this chapter due to the sex scene covered in it.** ****I seem to have decided to pursue this campaign and do things with it. Because I seem to be running out of written words. Little bit of a chapter preview, if that helps those hungry readers, in this chapter Reddy figures out about his Phaser training, and spends a special time with his dorm's manager, Lt. Commander Andrews (Andrews in a Cryptic character who appears in the mission Second Wave, she is blonde haired and slender bodied Scotswoman and is about the age of twenty-three in this part of our story, Reddy is actually old for an officer, twenty-eight to be precise, and will play some role in Reddy's memories as he moves on in this story.) I best say it now before I forget it, but I think I have decided to split this series into episodes, with each episode following a different character and a different episode of the game. I will follow it chronologically and have the stories crisscross here and there. I plane to focus on the characters of Samantha O'Connell on board the _Chillingsworth_ , and Jacques (I may just start calling him Patrick since most characters do) Reddy aboard the _Walker_. Other than that, I plan to keep either the episodes down to 2k-3k chapters, so obviously parts, and maybe have a total story varying in length according to the episode it is based off of. (P.S. I don't really plan to fool with some of the time travel stuff unless it's a special occasion.) (P.P.S. I also may include two separate characters of the Romulan and Klingon storylines.) **Please enjoy this chapter.**

 **Part 2: Last Morning.**

Just as Reddy reached the seats arranged opposite of Commander Alexander's office, his communicator buzzed, he drew it to read the message he had been sent. _REPORT TO THE OFFICE OF COMMANDER KEL'CHAK ALEXANDER, ASAP_.

 _Timing_ , he thought, and rung the doorbell.

"Enter." Came Alexander's voice.

Reddy came through the door and marched to the front of Alexander's desk. He snapped a salute and waited for Alexander to return it. Alexander stood after the formalities, he held another paper file. Commander Alexander had a love for paper, all of his forms and records were copied unto paper as well as in the data banks, he always had a paper folder nearby rather than his PADD.

"Your test results are slightly less than satisfactory, Cadet." He put the folder down and walked around the desk, just like before. "It's not the best score of a tactical officer, but I want an explanation anyway."

Reddy thought, he swallowed nothing in his dry mouth again. "Sir—" he started, choked on his dry mouth, and started again. "Sir, I was focused on my tactical curriculum. I didn't take a large amount of time to go to the shooting gallery, sir." It sounded fake enough, his inability to speak around the Klingon didn't make it better.

Alexander moved about until his eyes were level with Reddy, they were about two feet apart, he could feel the air from the Commander's breath. A smile broke across his face. He laughed and went back around his desk. "Cadet, I want to congratulate you, you've made my crew. At ease" he added.

Reddy blinked and almost was off balance in the change of attitude. "The crew sir?" He stuttered.

"Not just any crew, my crew! The crew of the United Starfleet Frigate Chillingsworth, finest frigate to be launch this year."

Reddy kept blinking. "Thank you sir."

The strange Klingon smile was strange. "You're my new Security Officer."

Reddy smiled. "Thank you sir, who are your other department heads, can I ask?"

"Indeed you can, but I think I'd rather you meet them first. I'm sending you and them up to the ship early to prep her while the rest of the class goes through the ceremony. You leave at 1200 hours."

"None of them are walking sir?"

"Many don't have any reason, no family left, no family present, I was required to read your background Pat. I know what it's like."

Reddy's face must have shown his concern of being put into a category with the senior staff. He himself had left his family, much against their wishes for him to join the Catholic Church in Scotland, and had been disowned quickly after making it into the academy. At one time he had been Jacques Patrick O'Reddy, now it was just Reddy.

"Anyway, I trust you'll make a good Security Officer, as good as your record is."

"Why me sir?"

Alexander smiled again. "You've been training for four years, in that time you've volunteered for more Charge of Quarters slots than I ever was forced to do, you've reported fifty percent of all thefts and contraband items found. You've stood witness against three deserters, and never once have been caught out of line in the way of security. With all that, I think you qualify for the slot more than Haymore."

Looking back now, Reddy didn't realize how much it mattered, all the nights he had spent strolling about and thinking more than guarding. All the times he had reported cadets, not because he wanted to, but because he was called to. Maybe all the years of Catholic teachings had helped him somewhat. "I'll do my best to live up to your expectations sir."

Kel'chak Alexander laughed, "Spare me the formalities Pat, get out there so you can do your job, not please me."

Reddy clicked his heels and came to attention. "Sir!" he turned about and marched to the door.

"Mister Reddy!" Alexander's voice called him just as the door slid open. He turned about. "You won't mistake me for a Klingon warrior will you?"

Reddy's grin grew even wider. "No sir, Klingon's wear a quite garish set of battle armor, you wear the suit of a Starfleet officer, I could never make such a misake, sir."

Alexander shook his head. "Dismissed, Cadet."

Reddy left the room and jumped high, he went down the hall jumping to click his heels in excitement. When he reached the end the NCO at his reception deck yelled at him but he didn't care. He had a rank, a staff slot, and apparently a healthy relation with his commanding officer.

He made his way across the quad and moved to the mess area and stopped briefly in the Club 106 to grab a drink. It wasn't anything special, the bartender at this time of day kept a pot of tea warm for any who asked, and Reddy was sure he was about the only one. He left at half a run towards his dorm to pack for the journey.

He was on the third floor of the Picard building in a small room that had once held a roommate. His room mate had been busted for contraband dealings a year ago, and the only replacement had been a Lieutenant Commander who made great conversation and studying help. Lt. Commander Lace Andrews, another Scot, had been a fine friend for Reddy the last year, such great friend in all the ways he needed. It wasn't that she was close, it was that she gave him the time to rant, the time to listen, and someone to sit close to when he felt that all was done. She was younger than him, straight from the security classes of the Berlin Arm.

He didn't see her anywhere, it was mid-morning, she tended to be in the security conference at that time. He went and packed. It wouldn't take long, he had a total of three academy uniforms and two pairs of denim pants and a couple of plain tees to go with his two fall sweaters. He could stuff them all inside the duffel alongside his model of an _Excelsior_ -class and his Stan and Garnet Rogers data chips. As he worked he began to hum one of those songs. He was almost done when he heard the door open behind him. The step of the feet were light, and the he could tell who it was by the shadows.

"I got a security slot." Reddy said turning to see the petite frame of Lt. Commander Andrews. She had a soft and smooth face characterized by her blonde hair and deep dark eyes that always seemed to plead. Her body was perfect, with a tight round ass and small breasts she was like a college girl still. Standing there with her arms crossed and weight resting against the door frame. "I ship out at noon aboard the _Chillingsworth_."

She swallowed, shifting uncomfortably. "That's a fine frigate, skin's a little thin but she makes up for it with her deflectors."

Reddy remembered what she had said, how she had wished if he didn't make a slot she wanted him to help her here, help her change things. "Don't worry," He said, "One day, some fine Captain is going to recognize you as more than just a pretty face, you'll end up on something better than a crossed frigate or a cruiser. You'll end up on a _Majestic_ or a _Defiant_ , maybe even somewhere like K-7 or Deep Space 9. You can't just give up."

She moved close to him and took his hand. "It's not that Pat." She tugged his hand and pulled him after her.

Before he knew it he was outside a door he hadn't seen, he was somewhere in the basement of the building and he was positive he wasn't supposed to be down there. She thumbed the door and he saw the door panel read Andrews' rank and name, she gestured him through and he was unsure for a second after he entered. The room was large, like the captain's cabin on a Star Cruiser he would think, he hadn't been aboard a real starship yet. But the most surprising detail was that the far wall, overlooking the double bed, was a massive window that water could be seen through. It must have been part of the reservoir that was kept for the stream that ran around the quad. It had to be nestled perfectly for he could only see the fish and the sun in the distance, no buildings or people in sight.

He didn't receive long to think on it, suddenly felt a tug and turned to see Andrews' face only a few inches from his. Sweet lips and deep eyes were close, and her breasts were already pushing against him.

"I'm going to miss you," She said softly, "And I don't want to forget you."

They kissed, just barely at first, but the second time they held each other tight and went at it. Not breaking the kiss she worked at the buttons on her jacket, he helped, and tore it off. His own Starfleet Academy uniform didn't last either. He was there, almost naked besides his undershorts, and she still had her undershirt and pants on. They kissed again and he picked her up, running his kisses down her neck and to her shoulder, she was frantically kissing him all over his head. The undershirt was velcro, he ripped it open and gazed at the small breasts held in her lacy bra. She worked out of it and reached down to undo her belt.

When it was loosened and the zipper undone, he pulled. She lifted her hips and let the pants slide away. Her slender legs were there exposed, made blue by the sun shining through the water. Her body was like a model's, perfectly toned, not to bony, not to muscular.

Reddy moved closer, came down on top of her and made their lips meet, her hands fumbled about his shorts and pushed them away, he soon kicked them into the pile clothes on the floor. Andrews' placed her hands beside her and pulled herself back and upright, reaching behind her to expose her small breasts. For a second she seemed embarrassed by them, then Reddy took one in hand and brought it to him. He had seen this done before, he didn't want to admit why he saw it, but he took his mouth and clamped it over the tit, sucking gently. He used his tongue at the same time to lick it.

Andrews' head flung back, she let out a moan of pleasure as her hands grasped his hair, pushing it harder into her. Reddy took his hands down to her hips, grabbing the thong she wore and pulling it away. She pulled her legs back in a very sexy way as he took the cloth from her ankles. She caught him under his arms and pulled him closer again. This time his face was next to hers.

"I want you on me." She whispered in his ear, finishing the statement with a long and hard kiss.

Reddy grinned, here he was with a sexy woman beneath him, and she was wanting him on her. He returned a kiss and fondled his manhood, she joined him with a sexy grin on her face, together they hardened it as they shared their tongues. Within a few seconds he was ready, hard like a rock, she guided him to the place and placed her hands on his arms as he braced to go in. He pressed his hips in and she gasped, closing her eyes and thrusting her chest upwards. A low moan, something that made him harder, escaped her lips. He pushed farther and withdrew, repeating the motion.

"Fuck!" She gasped.

She was oriented just right, he sucked her breasts again as she kept swearing and he kept fucking her. She was moaning constantly now, calling his name.

"Oh Pat!" They were both virgins in their twenties, they had watched enough to know what they were doing.

She shifted and pushed him, pressuring him unto his back where she sat atop of him. She let her hair down and shook it free. It spilled down her breasts and partially covered them as she bounced up and down. She was like that for minutes until he let himself free inside her, she leaned over against him when he did it. She kissed his face, he was wrapped in a cocoon of her hair.

"I'm not done, honey." She had the face of a tiger stalking it's prey. He blinked confusion and realized. She worked her knees slowly and soon she was directly over him. He look up at the bottom of her breasts, which she was cupping, as he licked her core with all he thought her could. Her moans were louder, almost a low scream as she reached climax and fell off to the side.

They both lay there, panting and covered in sweat and the fluids from sex. She checked her watch and smiled at him again. "It's only o'nine-hundred."

Reddy blinked lazily, he was tired from their romp. They never stood from the bed, only positioned their bodies under the covers where they spooned, and maybe more than that once or twice, and rested together for the rest of the morning.


	5. The Great Arc: Pilot Part Three

So I went longer with this one, and didn't exactly get anywhere. If both exposition and dialogue seem clunky, it's actually rather difficult to write accurate fanfiction, I hope it gets easier in the future. BTW! Next chapter will be the bloody one where guys get killed and other things happen, hope you're ready for it. **Please enjoy this chapter and be sure to let me know how you liked it.** (Now, I got to get back to that work important thing I was doing. . .)

 **Part 3: Logistical Problems.**

For a short minute, it was puzzling. For they may have known each other for some time now, they never felt so strongly for each other. It came to Reddy now that the reason he had enjoyed Lt. Commander Lace Andrews' company so much, was because now he loved her. Not just because they he had had sex with her, but because she was perfect: Humorous, funny, sensible and well educated, she made his day. Now they realized it, and she held him close, on her tip toes, as he stood about to leave her room. How he wished he could lay with her again, not like they had before, but in the long and silent love they longed for. Soft caresses and movements that came from gentle and passionate sex, he longed for the double wide bed before he even left it's side.

Andrews' had her arms around his neck, head sideways against his chest as she realized how much she loved him. "I love you, Pat." He could hear the tears from her eyes, falling from the sweet girly cheeks and unto his Academy uniform. He bent his neck and rested his cheek against her hair.

His watch pinged on the half hour, he liked using the old style dialogs rather than the newer and complicated pieces of equipment. She pulled her head back and looked into his eyes. "I'm gonna miss you love." He said, letting his natural accent flow.

She strained and brought their lips together. "I want you to come home, I want to see you in a month Pat."

He kissed her again and broke the embrace, before he closed the door he glanced behind him. "No promises, love. I have a galaxy to save, don't you know?" The door slid shut and he walked off, the image of her crying filling his mind.

He made his way up to his room and found his bag. As he was moving to the stairs at the end of the hall he spotted a door slid open. Leaning against the frame was a partially clothed girl, barely eighteen, in a simple sleeping gown. She shifted and a man, about the same age, was outside the door with a bag over his shoulder. Reddy recognized him as Bernhard Morris, an engineering cadet. He dipped his head and edged passed, murmuring a request for pardon. From what he could tell, their exchange was the same as his and Andrews'.

He realized that becoming an officer of Starfleet was more than just joining a glorious cause, it was laying one's life on the line for the protection of others. It was possible they could all die their first day, or they could live for fifty years as ensigns, they could do anything and survive. Or they could leave their lovers home alone, to the point they disappeared from our radar, and never see them again. The possibilities were endless, and it was best not to think about it. The senior staff would be waiting for him, he ran to clear his mind.

By the time Reddy reached the meeting spot, which had shifted to the launch pad, a number of the senior cadets were there. At the top of the food chain was career captain (A cadet who devoted seventy-percent of their time to learning simply about administration and commanding a vessel, they were commonly high performing cadets of the top one percent) Suzanne Mckahan, Acting First Officer, followed closely by Acting Engineering Officer Ray Goldsby, a half human, half Bolian, man of about four-ten, and Acting Head of Operations Sarah Triss. Reddy was surprised to see Sarah there, he had remembered her saying she was at the bottom of her classes and wasn't expecting anything glorious, the same for some of the other candidates. Sooroo, a six-five Alien (She was of the variant primarily called Cats), was Acting Sciences Officer, while the final two to arrive was Acting Assistant Security Rebecca Haymore and Acting Tactical Officer Samantha O'Connell came quickly, it was almost twelve-hundred-hours before they were all gathered.

Reddy looked at Suzanne with questioning eye. "Missing a few, are we?"

Suzanne nodded. "Aye, but no time for that." She reached down into her duffel and retreived a bottle of a brown substance. Chuckles arose from the group. "Presenting, Patty's finest brew, for a toast!"

Somewhere in San Francisco was a shop that sold a bottled drink called Fienst Brew, it was simply a couple tablespoons of salt placed in very strong tea. The shop was called Patty's and several years ago, on their second year, a faculty cadet had bought it for Reddy. Reddy, being a gentleman, had shared it with most of the present cadets, and they had quickly realized it was like swallowing salt water. It had become something of a tradition among the small group.

O'Connell brought glasses and gave each cadet about a quarter of a glass, each time saying: "All in one swig alright?" and before long Suzanne raised her glass, but paused.

"I need a good toast guys." She seemed strangely familiar at that moment, where she should act like a commander and mean old First Officer, she was like their sister.

A questioning look was in Ray's eye. "Why not to the _Chillingsworth_?"

"Not that, not a ship, something with more meaning."

Reddy raised his glass. "To loved ones, who can't come with."

A long pause, then Triss raised hers. "To close friends, who can't be here." It was no surprise that many of their friends had washed out yesterday.

"To the friends, family, and loves we may leave without." Sooroo, commonly a very stoic and logical, joined he glass in the circle.

"To the fact that we're doing something right, and may we do that." Haymore wiped an eye and held her glass up.

The last brought their glasses up as well, and loosely chorused "Amen."

The drinks came back and the moment of solemnity was broken as each cadet coughed and hacked as the salty fluid forced it's way down their throats. Many bent over and continued to cough as the laughter spread through the group.

O'Connell was holding a hand over her mouth, "Oooh," she drawled, "That was worse than the last one."

Mckahan was laughing so hard tears fell from her eyes. She wiped them and attempted to compose herself. "Well, now that you can't breath, let's get our shuttle and get off this rock." A man from the bar brought a tray and collected the plates, Mckahan left him the foul drink as well. She commented that it was a bad waste of twenty credits. With a silent word, the group picked up their bags and gaggled along behind Mckahan as they approached the dispatcher.

The shuttle pad was about a quarter mile in length, with a loading dock including a bar at the back end, and the exit spilling out of the San Francisco bay and the Golden Gate. On it was seated a large number of small boarding shuttles, alternatively called eight occupants shuttles, and a tiny scattering of the more transport oriented Danube Runabouts. The shuttles here were all owned by the Academy and could not be posted elsewhere, meaning a second shuttle would come up behind them filled with ferrying pilots. At the loading dock gate, which barred the way to the flight deck, was a Packled with a PADD. He was a second year cadet, and they all remembered when they had been forced into such a job.

When Mckahan led the group to him, he showed little interest of good service. "Names and ship."

Mckahan introduced them and told him. "Hmm." He mumbled. "Shuttle 2234, we call her _Bethany_."

They thanked him and strode out onto the deck, 2234 was at the far end of the deck, so it was quite a walk. Along the way they split into different groups and moved at different speeds, eventually they were all at the ship. An ensign sat on the port nacelle with his back to the hull, eyes closed.

"Shuttle 2234?" Mckahan asked him, he opened one eye.

"I don't know, check the ID number." he said lazily. Haymore walked around to starboard and confirmed it.

"Well we're here to take it, you can go find something else to do now."

The eyes came open again, the Caitain stood and stretched his feline looking body. He held out a hand to Mckahan. "Ensign Awdy Polk, Chief Medical Officer, U.S.S. _Chillingsworth_."

Mckahan's showed some surprise. "You're our medical officer?"

"Aye." He yawned. "My ship is gonna be in drydock for a couple months, so I decided to find something better to do than relax around like I don't care." he soon added, "Plus, I couldn't very well let your ship go off without a proper medical officer could I?"

"No. . .sir." On a training cruise there were supposed to be two ranks, the captain's rank, and the cadets, technically Polk was a higher rank than Suzanne, even if she was the First Officer."

"No need to refer to me as that lass, you're my superior, I'm just a lowly medical officer. Now if you'd please, we seem to be running late." He pulled his bag from where he had placed it between the nacelle and the hull.

As the surprise wore off the crew climbed aboard the shuttle, some of them beginning to grow excited at the aspect of space. Reddy personally had never been in space, at one point his class had been taken to space for orientation day aboard a _Dakota_ -class heavy cruiser, he had been sick on that day and thus had missed his only chance to be on a ship before now. He had indeed spent several hours on holodecks performing exercises and orienting himself aboard cruisers, but the feel of a holodeck was nothing like that of real life. He had tested that theory when he 'accidentally' bumped into a holodeck program.

They were strapped in now, he had grabbed a seat near the front across from Triss, with Samantha and Ensign Polk at the helm, and Suzanne in the convenetly arranged seat behind them. The rest of the crew was along the walls of the small shuttle, waiting as the procedures were conducted.

"Academy Control, this is Sierra 2-2-3-4, requesting permission for start-up and engine fire procedures." Sam had orginally wanted to be a pilot, funny how preferences change, eh?

" _Sierra 2-2-3-4, Starfleet control, you are cleared for start-up and engine firing, advise checkpoints._ "

Together they began running through the checks, Ensign Polk would read from a list that was tied to the central console and Sam would call check as they worked. Once the engines were warm and prepared to fire, she checked in again and received confirmation. In five minutes they were prepped for takeoff.

"Academy Control, this is Sierra 2-2-3-4, requesting permission for takeoff, departure straight, destination Starfleet Drydocks."

" _Sierra 2-2-3-4, you are cleared for takeoff, departure straight, destination Starfleet Drydocks._ "

"Thank you Academy Control, Sierra 2-2-3-4, departing straight out."

" _Acknowledged Sierra 2-2-3-4, have a good one!_ _Control out._ "

Sam eased the throttle forward and thumbed the maneuvering thrusters. Reddy felt the shuttle seem to detach itself from the deck like they were two attracted magnets and pull off into the passage. Sitting sideways relative to the bow, the occupants were pushed to the side as the ship accelerated ahead of the inertial compensator. When the ship was set on her course, which would arc upwards and northward until they reached the pre-plotted interception point with the Starfleet Drydocks, Suzanne swung her chair around and addressed the cabin.

"So some high brass messed up and placed the _Walker_ at the top of the list for supply. The problem with this is that _Walker_ had about three quarters of her entire supplies aboard when they issued the orders, and now she has about twice as mmuch as she needs, and Captain Taggert isn't willing to give it up."

"No shortage of grenades aboard eh?" Reddy drew a few small laughs with his comment.

"None at all, but to the point, we've got the supplies ready to ship over, but someone has assigned our yard apes to the U.S.S. _Churchill_ , she's the new _Excelsior_ -class to be launched in a few days, so we've got to oversee the loading ourselves. For that matter, I have your assignments here." She took her PADD from her duffel. "Reddy, you and Haymore will oversee the main direction of supplies and manpower loading it. Triss, your job is to take care of the Operations department's supplies, make sure all the kits and munitions get aboard, Haymore will be responsible for distribution of weapons to lockers about the ship. Sam, you'll have word loading the proton torpedoes, _once_ you have secured the bridge and helped Ray, who will be in the engine room, fire up her primary subsystems. Sooroo's going to be at her station running pre-launch diagnostics, you were going to be in sickbay, but Mister Polk will be there."

"Yippy!" Polk said sarcastically.

They were passing into the upper atmosphere now. "I will be moving through the ship assigning quarters, if anyone wants that job feel free to ask, and hopefully we'll have a platoon of cadets up here within the hour."

A hand came up. "Why on earth are we having to do this? Why is so much attention drawn from us."

Suzanne held up a hand and spun her chair about, tapped Sam's shoulder and drew a hand across her own throat. Sam switched the internal recording system off, something only someone like her would know. Suzanne spun back. "Bigotry problems, people haven't been too happy about a former Klingon warrior taking command of a Federation cruiser, which is the whole reason he is being given a frigate, and plan to make it as hard as possible. Where Captain Taggert got to pick his own crew and staff, Kel'chak was left to pick through the lower part of the class, not many of his crew has more than a the barest passing grade, not to mention all the high performing cadets who are moving on to ships in need of officers. We are also going to be largely comprised of NCOs from the Berlin Arm, so be prepared for some awkward greetings and whatnot."

"Bastard monarchy of a command, thinking just because Kel'chak is Klingon he can't win wars." Ray's face was twisted in an extremely angry expression.

"Watch your tongue, Ray, that 'monarchy' paid for your college and will for your retirement if you're lucky." Triss cut in.

"Just look at it like this," Polk had to raise his voice since he was facing away from them. "you're not liked, you're underestimated and torn down. I see the perfect chance to prove the monarchy wrong."

Suzanne bent her head and, in a low voice, told Polk to shut up. She looked back. "The point is that we've drawn the short stick, and I told it a little worse than the Commander did. We are supposed to be off around the same time as Taggert and _Walker_ , but we won't be off until at least 0400 with these setbacks."

"So not so much pomp and circumstance eh?" Reddy retorted.

Suzanne was about to talk when Sam cut her off. "Ladies and gents, I present to you, space."

Reddy didn't ask for permission, he unbuckled and rushed forward and leaned over Sam's shoulder to gaze out the canopy. He saw them, the stars, bright as spotlights, shining like diamonds, the earth below them, flying past like it was a small orb. He could finally feel something different, something that put another piece of his puzzle together. He kept staring out like a child until Suzanne, a little less than kindly, ordered him to sit.

It wasn't long to dock with the _Chillingsworth_ , all that could be seen for almost ten kilometers around was a couple of Runabouts that were ferrying supplies to her, and before long Reddy was stretching his legs on the cool metal decks of their hangar bay. He gazed at the air shield, gazed about taking in the scenery like a cat in a new environment, while the others spoke with a NCO who had just approached.

In a few moments the world seemed bigger, not just a world, but the universe was massive now, even just in this small frigate, which was a _Centaur_ -class hull strapped onto the engines of a _Miranda-_ class located just below and behind the hull. It all looked very strange but appealing at the same time. Polk had spoken when someone had said she looked weird, he said: "She may not be an _Enterprise_ , or even a sleek racing vessel, but I think she'll be more useful than a heavy cruiser."

Maybe it was true, maybe they were destined not to make it a light year from earth. Either way, they were crew aboard the _Chillingsworth_ , and that meant the world to the lower half of the class of 2409.


	6. The Great Arc: Pilot Part Four

So I did say we'd have the action starting in this chapter, but no it won't. I'm sorry, the story controls me to a certain extent and sometimes I can't fight it (You'll understand if you're a writer). Please enjoy this chapter, and know that next chapter will definitely contain action!

 **Part 4: Unwary.**

The job of signaler was already becoming boring for Cadet Bernhard Morris, he had expected his job to be more tense, like the old submarine and 23rd Century movies where the men where either bent over their sonar panels, ears cocked to destroyer's ping, or where Ambassador Spock had bent over his sensor read, carefully searching for the faint signs of a Klingon Bird-of-Prey, or maybe a Romulan Warbird. This had been something of a fantasy to Bernhard, something he wished he would do, he really worked to become a Sensors Officer so that he could pay his debts, then settle down and marry Amy.

Amy, a razor sharp Irish ginger, was his life, even as he sat now, waiting for the automated detectors to ping and inform him of something hostile on sensors, he dreamed of her. He wasn't getting off on them, due to the amount of higher ranks in the room under the watchful eye of Captain Taggert, he was just managing to remember her nice long legs and freckled face and shoulders. He liked how he would visit her in Oregon when he had a weekend pass, and he'd enter her apartment to find her washing dishes or doing some chore in her knee length sleeping gown, which really only covered her mid thigh standing up. Sometimes the spark would explode there in the room and they'd be lost for the day in warm embraces and the covers of her bed. Or sometimes they would kiss and he'd get to take a shower before they went out to a local restaurant. Sometimes he'd don his Academy uniform and take her to a fancy gourmet restaurant on the riverfront, or they would both dress in denim and the odd top they had, usually a plaid button up, and drive into the country, where they would partake of cuisine in a small trailer restaurant and once again Bernhard would meet the old friends of Amy's hometown. He was missing her voice though, the sound of her swift Irish accent against his very Southern drawl was something that drew laughter from people around them, as well as each other. A sharp ping drew him from his thoughts.

With Bernhard being as bored as he was, it was generally caused by the negligible amount of 'hot space' in the Vulcan Sector, he had set the alarm sensitivity up to a very high level. That level being high enough to warn him of a neutral enemy warp signature left over from a week ago, this category also included dead zones for his sensors. Bernhard leaned in and looked hard at the screen, an area of static had been detected about ten minutes out, which was really far at Warp 5, which they would be passing at a wide berth, it was about five minutes from being gone from his sensors.

Bernhard had been told by his instructor, who had paid quite the amount of attention to him, that the best way to get a good idea of how bad the static was, was to grab a pair of sound canceling headphones and scan the area with the sensor feedback audio. Bernhard had bought himself an aviation headset just for this reason, he pulled them from the station compartment, which was under the panels against the hull, and placed them on, plugging the manual cord into the universal socket.

On the edge of his panels was the audio feedback station, he slid his chair about to it and routed the focused feed, where he had been before, through and began to focus. He had two dials that slid the sensor focus vertically and horizontally relative to the ship, he started turning and soon was looking somewhere a dozen light years away. He fixed his focus and turned the dials again, this time sensitivity was down and he could easily maneuver them through the dead zone. He swung it across the area, stopping at the edges and listening for any periodic changes in the static. He stopped on the closest edge, he could hear something, just barely readable, but it was something.

Amy, his father, and just about everyone who had gone to a concert or listened to music with Bernhard would say he had the ears of an owl. He could listen to a Klingon opera and find inside of it the Morse code, or even a sonata from some other composer. During his time at the Academy, he had trained his ears to pick out irregularities in a ten minute recording of static, he could hear something in this, only barely though.

Bernhard took his PADD from it's place in the station compartment and shifted the coordinates and frequency range over to it. He took off his headset and moved over to the Comms station. He tapped on Cadet T'Vrell's shoulder and leaned over the edge of her station.

"T'vrell, can you focus on these coordinates and read on an open frequency." He handed her the PADD, she took it and began pressing buttons through her station.

The whole time she was working he could feel the watchful eyes of Captain Taggert glancing his way ever since he stood up. They were more focused on Cadet Ash Potter, who had a history of instability, especially during a period of downtime.

"I have found something, it appears to be a distress signal. It will take me several seconds to clear it up until it is readable." T'Vrell was typical Vulcan, following in the footsteps of Ambassador Spock, one day she might come out of her shell and be an actual person rather than the unemotional being she was.

"Is it genuine?" Bernhard asked, he was against the front of her station, which faced forward and was next to the secondary turbolift near the back port side of the bridge. He shifted around until he was beside her.

"Hold on. . .there is a seventy-two percent chance that the message is genuine, it is still hard to distinguish unfortunately." T'Vrell didn't look up.

"Keep working, I'll tell the captain." Bernhard straightened and came off the rearward platform, which was elevated above the three chairs that the captain and his most senior, first officer, honored guest, etc, would sit, with the two consoles forward, one combat read out, other navigation, and two more below that level as the helm and weapons (Tactical and Engineering were located behind the captain on the platform with Comms and Sensors).

He cleared his throat and addressed Captain Taggert. "Yes Mister Morris?"

Bernhard straightened even more, if it was possible, and clicked his heels. "Sir, I think we have a situation, possibly a ship in distress." Captain Taggert wasn't supposed to think highly of him, not after the times he had pissed him off through the last year, so his throat was turning dry.

"Please expand on that comment, Cadet." His voice, as usual, was harsh.

"Sir, I had my alarm set to a very broad area, due to the lack of hot space in our sector, and found that there is an area that was dead of sensor readings. I believed it to be an area of jamming and detected an irregularity in the static on the closest edge, Cadet T'Vrell believes it to be a distress signal sir, most likely legitimate." He started out very weak, after a good swallow he had the strength to get his report across.

Captain Taggert stood and strode to T'Vrell's station. "Cadet?"

T'Vrell looked from her console. "Sir, I have unscrambled several seconds of what seems to be a recorded distress signal, I say that there is a seventy-five percent chance that it is authentic."

"Play it back, T'Vrell."

T'Vrell activated the playback, it was rough recording with plenty of static. " _This is the S.S. Break Even, I am requesting immediate assistance from any ships in the area. . ._ " It became very clouded after, Bernhard was positive he had heard the word Klingon before T'Vrell dropped the volume to spare their ears.

"Number One?" Taggert looked at Cadet Razkii, a Saurian who had almost failed all his classes but had somehow gotten the slot as First Officer.

Razkii stood and thought for a second. "From memory of the training cruise several years ago, I do believe that the _Break Even_ has a history of faulty systems, I remember out commander aboard the training ship saying that she had rescued her fifteen times in her career. I suppose this is not a part of our training, sir?" Leave it to the stiff lipped Saurian, who probably had better hearing than an actual animal, to ignore the word Klingon.

"No, _Break Even's_ captain would never agree to it unless we paid him more than your education cost, Flores?"

Flores had been intently listening the whole time. "I concur with the First Officer sir."

Taggert finally turned back to Bernhard. "Where is the approximated location of the _Break Even_?" he asked, voice harsher than with other cadets.

Bernhard rushed to his station and checked the sensors. "Roughly two minutes out at our current speed, at a 300-400 angle to our course, sir."

"Potter, lay in a course." Captain Taggert turned away. "Mister Morris? Head down to the transporters in the case you're needed to help cut through this 'jamming' you detected."

Bernhard walked to the secondary turbolift and shook his head as it accelerated down to the correct deck. After a second he almost let out a blast of fury against the panel, if Taggert wanted to take the ship into a bloody ambush, which was evident by the fact that _Break Even_ was broadcasting as loudly as she was and in a sensor blind spot, a location that was prime for a Klingon ambush. While Starfleet and her high ranked members said that _no_ Klingon would be brave or crafty enough to get inside of Federation lines, but that didn't explain why three cruisers had been lost last year to attacks. Bernhard read the news, Amy mailed a copy from her office in Oregon and he managed to slip it past the contraband inspections and had about a dozen copies, before he sold them, that told of the dilapidated fleet of B'Rel Bird-of-Prey's that poached Federation borders and even systems whilst the main Klingon force was working it's way into the Neutral Zone and taking Romulan Star Empire space. Bernhard didn't give a damn if they got pounced, it would be a chance for him to say 'I told you so' to Captain Taggert. If they were all alive that was.

The turbolift slowed as the ship dropped from Warp back unto Impulse power. Bernhard swore when the turbolift failed to come back on.

 _Walker_ wasn't exactly new, she had been sitting in a drydock for several years undergoing repairs after she was pulled from the Azure Nebula, where she had been on a mission that obviously failed. The workers had a hell of a job, she was now almost a hundred percent operational, yet several turbolift shafts had been damaged, this caused power losses and jams that could trap occupants for hours. Since it was no simple task fixing a turbolift shaft, the workers had added a manual release for the lift doors as well as an access hatch in the roof of the lift so that occupants could get out, or workers could find them easily.

Bernhard kicked the wall, the panel readout was saying that there was a power loss and that the lift's drop safety had engaged, this all meant that the lift would not be moving anytime soon. Bernhard thought about remaining in the lift for the duration, but he quickly decided he could not stay in the close space, not alone. The manual door release was behind a panel at the rear of the lift, he removed the panel and triggered it. The door unlocked but didn't slide.

 _Bugger no energy_ , Bernhard swore to himself, _Of course I'll have to muscle it open._ Bernhard wasn't exactly the strongest man in his class, and he didn't quite care if was either, but many knew it was hard to pry two Light Cruiser grade lift doors open, alone or not. Thankfully there was a set of handhold to help him get started, he drew up his sleeves and set to work, straining to slide the door back. He had it about a quarter meter open when he realized there was no way out, opposite of him was nothing but a solid slab of armor plating. He swore once again, that left one way: up.

He jumped and hit the escape door, punching it square with his fist and knocking it upwards. It was set on a free hinge so that it could be easily and quickly knocked open in an emergency, yet someone had to be tall enough and had to jump high enough to knock it past ninety degrees. Finally, he knocked the door far enough back so that when he jumped he could get his hands on the edge of the hatch, the door was light as well, so coming down on his fingers didn't hurt as much. He them began the hard struggle of pulling his weight up with no assistance, not even a wall to push against. It must have been thirty seconds before he was finally sitting on the rim, arms shaky from the strain. He could finally breath a sigh of relief, for only two feet above the top of the lift was a jefferies tube. He walked over and was about to climb through it when. . .

The tunnel shook and he was almost tossed free of the tube. He was lucky his hands had been grasping the rungs of the tube before the lift fell from beneath him, roaring away either due to malfunction or simply regaining the power. Yet suddenly there were sparks flying from inside the jefferies tube, showering him with their white hot fire as he clung there, feet vainly trying to grasp the smooth side of the lift tube. It was easier pulling himself up this time, he had new rungs to grab and could gather some tiny amount of friction from his feet pushing on the lift side. Yet the world kept shaking, even as he found refuge finally in the small tube. The warning klaxons began to ring.

" _Red Alert, Red Alert, Ship is under attack."_

Bernhard realized what he had thought was coming true, they had come under fire, and they may all die.


	7. The Great Arc: Pilot Part Five

So I dive a little deeper into the story and introduce some temporary and secondary characters and finally you get the bloodshed you may or may not want. (Whichever suits me fine.) Hope you enjoy this and subsequent chapters.

 **Part 5: Blood Spilt.**

For several seconds, he couldn't exactly believe it, despite the showers of sparks and shaking of the ship that threatened to toss Bernhard from where he lay in the jefferies tube. He rolled back onto his front and began to climb up to the deck above. The tube spilled out into an air shaft that soon fed into the sickbay. He gazed out and couldn't see anything at first, but soon a body, running, rushed into the room and was hit by a greenish white bolt of energy. She screamed and fell to the floor, back smoking from the wound. In the far corner, Bernhard could see the other nurses and the doctor cowering in the corner now. The doctor stood and brought his hands up, signaling that he surrendered. It was no good, the man was struck by an intense beam of green, he was swallowed in a cloud of green light, blasted into oblivion by the rifle of the Klingons who walked slowly and devilishly into the room, their guns at their hips, both rifles and pistols. The nurses, both men and women, tried to hide and surrender but nobody listened.

As Bernhard shimmied backwards to the last junction, he averted his eyes from the flash of the disruptors as they dealt swift blows to the medical staff. It was all made more diabolic by the sound of a Klingon's laughter. Bernhard put the sorrow aside and cleared his mind, considering his options.

It was a training cruise, very few non-tactical cadets would be wearing weapons; in fact, most weapons would be locked in the armory on the different decks. Bernhard found the junction and moved forward, squeezing and finally thankful for his small stature, if his shoulders had been an inch wider he would never make it. Eventually he came to a sprout off, he knew he was over a main corridor because of the constant sound of weapons fire below him, which would hopefully be something better than sickbay. He was right, it was a locker room, hopefully a room containing weapons. Except the air duct was protected and heavier armored in this location, keeping him from easily breaking into the room easily. That didn't stop him, a few times smashing his shoulder against the corner knocked the bolts loose and he suddenly fell through and violently landed on his back.

He lay stunned for a second or two before he gathered his strength and opened the door. This section of corridor was silent of any fire, but he could hear the tapping of someone trying to open the door. He went to the closest locker and found he was in an armory, he took a phaser pistol and it's tactical belt from the locker, complete with slots for an extra energy cell and two grenades, and opened the next to find a number of full auto rifles inside. He slung the rifle, not giving any thought to grab a full tactical kit, and drew the pistol from it's holster. He approached the door and triggered the release, aiming the pistol out. He dropped it immediately.

"Auch, donee shoot us laddie, we a' be Starfleet, ya know!" A short Ferengi, with a strange accent much like a number of human cadets at the Academy. He was accompanied by a Trill and two Vulcans, all of them either had a gold or blue stripe on their Academy uniforms.

"Who's in charge here?" He asked.

The Trill huffed. "In charge, I don't even know what system we're in, or if this is real or not!"

Bernhard signaled for them to get in the room, grabbing the Ferengi and tossing him in. When they were in he closed the door, locking it. "It's real, bloody hell it's real." He leaned heavily against the bulkhead and slid down, he dropped his rifle to the side.

"What happened Mister Morris?" Asked a Vulcan, calm and unemotional as usual.

"What happened? What happened?" Bernhard was on his feet, face becoming red with fury, primarily at the tone of the Vulcan. "Klingons that's what! Bloody killed the whole sickbay crew! Every damn one, they were surrendering too!"

The second Vulcan's eyebrows tilted in, she showed concern for Bernhard. "Then maybe," Something evil was behind her eyes, "we should pay them the same favor, eh?"

For a second he wasn't sure what she meant, then it hit him, her lack of emotion while speaking was offsetting, he grinned as well. Reaching over, he knocked the door to the nearest weapon locker open and took out a full tactical kit and strapped it on. "Gear up." He said.

The Trill, Ferengi, and second Vulcan began gearing up, but the first stood back, arms crossing her breasts, staring cynically at the second as she suited up. Bernhard approached. "Gear up, Cadet, we have some Klingons to kill."

"I'm a deflectors officer, Mister Morris, I'm not trained in combat on the ground." She said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Bernhard tilted his head in question. "And that matters how much?"

She straightened and dropped her arms. "Well don't you see," her raised voice caused the other cadets to look at her as they finished gearing up. "none of us, not even you, have taken anything beyond basic tactical experience, nor the advanced phaser course. We're scientists and engineers, not marines!"

"It'a be simpla' lassie," spoke the Ferengi, brandishing his beam rifle, "justa' aim and shoot."

The Vulcan shook her head and was about to protest when Bernhard turned, stopped shortly to put a number of grenades, mainly stun, on his gear, and walked to the door. He triggered the release and leaned from the doorway, checking both ways with his pistol held up. When he thought it was clear he leaned back in.

"You can stay here, but you didn't see a dozen defenseless cadets murdered less than five minutes ago." He waved his hand for the group to follow him. They secured the section of hall and were kneeling as they formulated a plan.

"Security offices are aft of here, near Main Engineering, T'Kira could be barricaded in there." The Vulcan said, calmness had returned to her voice.

"Good idea, but we need to get to a panel and contact either the bridge or someone who can help us." He looked at the faces, they eagerness was gone and fear was beginning to show in their eyes.

"The Sciences, it's forward and down two levels. It could be swarming with Klingons," the Trill had a gold stripe across her jacked symbolized the engineering department. "I may be able to hack into the computers if you can get me to a semi-important console."

"The siyback?" Bernhard couldn't tell if the Ferengi purposely pronounced sickbay that way, or just did and didn't realize it.

"I heard fighting along that corridor, but it's not far." they could hear the fighting even now.

"Not to mention, fire means friendlies." said the Vulcan.

Bernhard nodded. "Sickbay then." He ordered the Ferengi to the back with the Vulcan behind him and the Trill behind Bernhard leading. As the began to move slowly he secretly dreaded visiting sickbay for the image of the Klingons hovering over the helpless medical staff. The sounds grew louder and Bernhard held up a fist for them to stop. He lowered it and they all knelt as he crept forward, gun against his left shoulder, head tilted with one eye gazing down the sights. He slowly moved against the inside wall of the corridor's turn. Eventually the back of a Klingon came into his sight, a few more steps and he could see several more. He edged back again.

The Vulcan was lying flat on her belly, out a meter or so from the group, aiming down the hall as Bernhard told them what he saw.

"An'ea ideer what they be shootin' at noaw?" Asked the Ferengi.

"Negative, but I think they're some kind of rearguard, they didn't seem to be taking any cover, just staring."

"I say we take 'em, kill them all nice and quick." said the Trill.

The all agree, and they spread across the corridor, sweeping about the curve until they saw the full group of five or so Klingons, staring down the hall as if they didn't what was behind them. Bernhard took aim at the far left warrior, at outside edge of the curve, and squeezed his trigger. Three orange bolts flew free and knocked the Klingon to the floor, back smoking just like the poor bugger he had seen killed earlier, the same happened to three others at the same time, leaving the final Klingon to turn and see four phaser rifles looking straight at him. They didn't expect him to surrender, and they never gave him the chance. The kept moving around the curve and saw several more Klingons crouching behind support frames as they fired on down the hall at a group of Starfleet obscured by the curve of the hall.

They moved up again, quickly but silently. Bernhard signaled for them to crouch and unhooked a photon grenade. Primed, he tossed it into their midst. The explosion of brilliant white light dissipated quickly and they moved forward, checking for any survivors. Bernhard leaned out into the turn and shouted that he was with Starfleet, a short figure appeared, a Caitian, cautiously approaching with her weapon at her shoulder.

"Identify yourself." She called. Bernhard could tell she was a tactical cadet by the red stripe on her jacket.

"Sensor Officer Bernhard Morris."

The Caitain moved closer and lowered the rifle, "Sorry about that friend, can't be too careful." it was hard to read the feline expressions of Caitians, but he was sure she was giving a hopeful grin. "Junior NCO of Security Rrash." No matter how friendly she seemed, she was always glancing about, both hands tight on her auto rifle. She looked back and called all clear, a team of two Bolians, a Saurian, and a Andorian. "May I present to you: Junior NCOs Kes Ch'rhiarrohr," She pointed to the male Andorian with strangely long hair. "Chehis Arad and Crash Regit," She pointed first the female Bolian, then to the male. "And finally Torpedo Ballistics Cadet Tekz." She looked at Bernhard, he realized she was expecting him to introduce his own crew.

He suddenly realized he didn't know a single name among his group. The Vulcan saved him: "Officer of Deflectors Sakup." She said, nodding as she hefted her beam rifle.

"Arripak, Damage Control." Said the Ferengi.

The Trill stepped forward and offered hand. "Vossen Kabod." Rrash didn't accept the hand, she turned and cocked a head at Morris.

"Do you happen to have a battle plan Mister Morris?" She asked, he didn't exactly like the tone of her voice, but he did like how she purred his name, extending the r's and sounding sexy while she did it.

Bernhard bit his lip. "We were heading to the sickbay and access the core computers there and hopefully either contact the bridge or hack into the Sciences and fire up the distress beacon."

She nodded slowly, considering the plan. "Hell of a first day eh?" they all nodded and huffed somewhat sadly at the fact, they knew that this was a bugger all and was bound to have many unfortunate outcomes. "I'll follow you, we didn't come from that far though, we were making for the torpedo lockers forward and maybe make a way up to the bridge, but I think your idea is better, we can rally help in the sickbay if we need."

She signaled for him to lead and fell in step behind him, Crash and Tekz brought up the rear with Arripak. Bernhard didn't bother to tell her what he had seen in sickbay and moved alongside her in their large group. It wasn't far to the sickbay entrance and stopped outside. They could hear a crash inside. Rrash ordered Kabod and Crash out into the corridor ahead and told Arad and Arripak to hold the rear, leaving the rest to rush down the hall into sickbay. They found a four Klingons, Bernhard was sure they were the exact same ones, going through the medical supplies and stashing bags full of what they could grab. They were dropped in a few seconds, all dead. One had been stunned by a blast from Rrash's pistol, Bernhard took his own gun and shot him in the head.

"What the jumping hell?" Rrash's head moved back and forth quickly, shocked at his display.

He pointed at where the sickbay crew had been cowering last he looked, there was a number of smoldering bodies, but there was a large presence of black ash across the previously spotless hull. "You see that, that's what the hell I'm doing. I don't care about intelligence or Section 31, I'm not going to give any quarter to any of the bastards who did this."

Rrash looked with some shock at the location as Bernhard turned away and told Vossen to access the mainframe. "It will just take minute or two."

Bernhard turned back and saw Rrash looking at one of the bodies, it was another Caitian. He placed a hand on her shoulder, when their eyes met he could see a tear inside them. There were no words to comfort her, he just grabbed everyone but Sakup, who was helping Vossen, and walked out to secure the hall. On the bulkhead panel he pulled out a floor plan, checking through it.

Rrash had dried her eyes and was leaning over the panel along with Bernhard and Kes. They were wondering what to do next, whether to move aft and take back the Security Office, when Sakup called them back. Only Rrash and Bernhard walked over.

"Sitrep, Vossen." He ordered.

Vossen looked up from the panel and brushed a stray hair back. "Damaged all to hell, and just as bad on the Klingon front. No contact with the bridge and we're being jammed by something bloody powerful."

Rrash looked at him. "Well?"

He gave her a look wondering why she was trusting all the responsibility to him. He looked back. "What about the distress beacon?"

"Disabled from the bridge, looks like it was giving us due to a radiation cloud that is hiding us from enemy ships." Vossen's voice was becoming shaky, almost scared.

Bernhard considered it. "Fire it up and focus it in the direction of Earth and intensify it in the surrounding sectors, sacrifice range for cutting power."

Vossen worked the and was soon done. "It won't be long we could be under fire again."

"Bugger fire, we can't clear this ship alone without help, and they won't blow us up unless they know they can't capture us."

He would have continued if not for the outburst of fire and a call from Tekz. The four guards were now crouching in the shelter of the corridor as disruptor blasts tore at the opposite wall. They rushed to the location. Rrash looked at Bernhard and nodded to the grenades on his belt, he had a stun and a photon left, they unhooked them and primed them. The counted, tossed, and charged after their explosions with war cries and screams of terror.


	8. The Great Arc: Pilot Part Six

That's right! Bloody Reddy and his girls are back in the game! Join them now on their epic journey through the decks of _Walker_ as they rescue the ship from the enemy and totally steal a future medical officer's thunder. :D

Enjoy this chapter and have a nice day!

 **Part 6: A Shilling for Rescue.**

" _Attention, all senior staff to the bridge immediately._ "

Reddy brought his eyes up from the security manual he had been studying, his instructor had always said you never learned what you needed to know unless you learned by what went wrong, this manual was full of experiences that other security officers went through and was more of a collection of stories than a manual.

Rebecca Haymore was across the room with her PADD on, she was a fanatic for reading and probably had all of her spare PADD space filled with books, she glanced up at the announcement. Reddy stood and donned his jacket.

"Wish to come along?"

Haymore considered it, glancing at the PADD. "Got nothing better to do." She stood and stretched, while leaning back her shirt was a bit short, and Reddy caught a glimpse of the rich dark skin of her well toned abdomen. She put on her own jacket and followed him out the door.

They didn't move quickly, probably was just the Commander wanting to announce a drill, but they made fine time down the wide halls of the _Chillingsworth_ , that they had learned to navigate very quickly, and were soon at the primary turbolift up to the bridge. They stepped unto the bridge about three minutes after the announcement.

"About time." Commander Kel'chak Alexander was standing alongside Suzanne and Triss.

"May I ask what this is about?" Reddy stretched his shoulders as he stepped up to them.

" _Walker's_ been attacked, she's stopped and has been boarded." Kel'chak was curt and pacing with his hands behind his back.

"Surely not!" Haymore burst.

"Indeed Cadet Haymore, and we're going to help."

"What do we know?" Reddy asked.

The Commander looked at Suzanne. She straightened. "All we know is that they have been boarded by a sizable force and have no communication inside of her, from the Warp trail that we were following when we picked the signal up, it seems that they have a very sizable force. And I'm talking possibly a dozen Bird-of-Preys."

"Sir, it's highly unlikely that any Klingon, even if he did penetrate this deep into Federation space, he most likely would not group his ships together, for the exact same reason we see here. I believe it is a trap and they are using _Walker_ as bait, I think we need to check with Vulcan and see if they have arrived yet." Reddy protested.

"We thought that too," Commander Alexander sat in his chair, "But it appears that the story is valid, we've tried hailing but haven't gotten a call back, but it appears that the area that the signal is coming from is a sensor dead zone, we can't penetrate it, and it would be very hard for something to signal us out of. All arrows point to the fact, we've decided to take action." He cut off Haymore's protest. "I didn't call you unto my bridge to discuss it, we'll be dropping out in five minutes and I want three landing parties on board within thirty seconds of us dropping out." He stood. "It is most certain that the reason that the signal is still going is that the Klingons want something else to shoot at, or maybe they haven't been able to get the ship yet and stop it. Either way, I want each of you—" He pointed to Haymore, Reddy, and Triss. "—to board and assist the _Walker's_ crew in regaining control and assisting in anyway possible. Be quick in forming your teams and take some medical NCOs with you, we don't know what all has gone wrong. Go now." They all turned and were quickly on the lift. Kel'chak walked up and spoke only to Reddy. "If we come under fire, we may not be able to stay and support you, take the ship before you take back the bridge."

"I took basic tactics sir, I know how to take back a vessel." Reddy nodded and activated the turbolift and took it down to his level.

They didn't waste a minute of time, as they ran to their stations, Rebecca to the weapons lockers, Triss to Operations, and Reddy to assemble the different away teams. In three minutes he had mustered twelve cadets and they were gearing at the last minute in the transporter room. Each of the assault crew had four pieces of equipment, a belt with two grenades and a phaser pistol, with an extra power pack, as well as some extra gadgets and their communicators; a tactical kit that strapped crosswise on the shoulders and carried a separate communicator that contacted only the people they were assigned to, a slot for their rifles on the back, four grenades of personal choice, and two extra power packs for their rifles, and other accessories that were removed due to this shorter length sortie.

They were just finishing the synchronization of their comms when the last alarm sounded, they would have to be off as quickly as the transporter officer got a lock on _Walker_. They finished their tactical planning as Reddy climbed onto the pad and his team prepared for transport. He would be beaming outside of the security offices and hooking up with the security contingent aboard _Walker_ and moving forward to the bridge with them. Haymore would beam into the forward of the ship and take Sciences and get the shields up and lock down transports on and off of the ship, Triss would beam outside of engineering with a special team and secure the area and fix any damage. They were simply guessing, trying their best to learn from the files left over from the salvage of the _Marie Deare_ , which had been jumped a year ago in much the same manner as _Walker_.

"Energize!" Reddy last saw a concerned look on Triss' face, almost one of emotional pain, as his vision was obscured by the bright light of the transporter. It faded and he was looking down a scarred hallway, dark places and streaks of ash where persons had stood signified that there had been fighting in this area. Weapons fire could be heard down the wall.

Reddy brought his rifle up and signaled for the team to spread out against the walls as he slowly advanced down the hall. They rounded a sudden corner to see the backs of Klingons fighting down the hall, without a single rearguard. They tossed a photon grenade down and charged after it's bright blast. The Klingons had been fighting at a junction, down the hall he could see a group of officers waving their hands saying they were friendly. They came running up as Reddy slowly leaned around the corner and a stream of orange bolts sent him back again.

"Starfleet!" He shouted.

"Identify!" came a shaky female voice.

He did and someone said advance without a weapon. He handed his rifle to the medical officer on his team and approached with his hands held to the sides. A tall and dark skinned Vulcan came from behind a crate and brushed her jet black hair back and moved her head about. Her rifle was held at the waste, focused on him. "How can I trust you aren't with the Klingons?" She asked.

"Would I have walked into the hall if I was? Would I have killed my own men if I was?"

She nodded. "T'Kira, Head of Security, where's _Chillingsworth_?" She introduced herself and signaled her team forward. The leader of the first group came up, she was a Benzite with a stripe of engineering on her chest.

"I'm not too sure myself, someone is scrambling communications in this area, we could hardly see you floating about out here. We're all lucky we didn't materialize in a wall." The Vulcan was very stunning, she didn't seem to have the regular stoicism of most and held her body in a rather feminine way that made it hard to focus on her eyes when she was wearing a very short Sierra skirt. She nodded as he spoke.

"Well, I suppose you came here with a game plan." She retorted, Reddy nodded and asked her to show him her ship layout.

 _Walker's_ Security Offices were top rate, with a full holographic ship layout and several high tech computer systems, this was of course compared to _Chillingsworth's_ own single room with a rows of chairs before a table with a covered paper map, a number of desks for the administration part of work, and two sofas for them to relax in when off duty. She pointed to where they were, just forward of Main Engineering and about a quarter of the hull from the bridge. He pointed to the turbolifts near the bridge. "We'll split into two groups and sweep up on either side of the main halls, team two will clear Operations in the progress," He pointed to the port side of the ship, "while team one stops by the Sickbay and clears it as well, we'll try and take any wounded that we can with us, if not we'll send nurses back and leave a few to defend them. We have a group sweeping in from a'fo'w'rd and we'll meet them here at the turbolifts. We'll form two more teams and send them out to collect any surviving crew and sweep back to engineering, then move forward again. Hopefully by the time they make it aft we'll have internal sensors up and can track any survivors down. We'll cover out attack on the bridge once we get there, in the meanwhile. . ." he considered what he was about to say, he decided to say it. "Show no quarter, take no prisoners." They broke then, He gave command of group two to a NCO on his team and took T'Kira, who seemed oddly shaky and he didn't want to trust her with command of a troop. None of _Walker's_ staff had any gear on so he kept a large number with them. They spread out and went down in two groups. Group one would move up and secure a set of rooms as group two came up beside them, about the time they were abreast, group one checked the rooms flanking them, clear them, and lock them before moving abreast with group two. The action was repeated for about forty meters until they ran into the backs of a newly beamed in group of Klingons. A brief firefight ensued which was cut short by a photon grenade tossed from the opposite direction.

Reddy leaned out to see a group of nine officers approaching, weapons held across their chests as they came up. They automatically looked at T'Kira. "Ma'am." Said a short and red haired man, Reddy suddenly realized it was the man saying goodbye, Bernhard Morris. "We thought you were holed up in Security, we activated the distress beacon in Sickbay and have been giving these bastards what we can." He had a soft southern drawl that seemed much too calm for the situation.

T'Kira nodded at his report. "Very good Mister Morris, Sergeant Rrash," She nodded to a Caitian. "We were held up there, thankfully Patty here was kind enough to beam over from _Chillingsworth_ and rescue us."

"I'll collect my shillings worth later." Many offered a nervous laugh at his joke, all except Morris. He lost his smile, "We're moving up towards the bridge, what can you tell us about our path?"

"Auch came from ou'ar barracks with yon Lassies, we'dnea see nothin' twixt o'r rooms and ye' bridge, no." The Ferengi, spoke in a horribly highland accent for his species.

Reddy nodded, his tactical kit's communicator buzzed. "Reddy here."

"It's Becky, Pat, we've secured Sciences and raised the shields," The whole ship shook from a torpedo strike on her shields. "We're being fired upon and I think Kel'chak just warped away due to heavy damage, he was moving at Warp Factor 1."

Reddy swore. "Roger, block all transporter signals and gather as many troops as you can and sweep forward along the main halls, we'll secure the transporter room and move to the bridge lifts. Further orders dispatched there."

"Will comply, Haymore out." the line comm line cut off. Reddy looked at the group.

"We'll keep going forward and hurry up, doesn't matter how. I want you," He pointed to the NCO addressed as Rrash and Morris, "to spread out and look for wounded, we'll drop them in sickbay and leave a small security escort."

"There won't be any wounded, they're killing all they can, you won't find any sickbay staff, either." Morris' expression was blank as a Vulcan's, his voice like a ghost as he stared blankly off into the space between Reddy and T'Kira. "We need to keep moving and take back the bridge so we can better direct our crew." He hefted his rifle.

Reddy didn't respond to that. "Rrash, take your teams and fan out into the farthest halls and move along them looking for whoever you can. Sweep the whole way around the ship and do it quickly, I want anyone qualified for a bridge position on my team."

Morris, a Saurian named Tekz, Arripak the Ferengi, and finally Sakup the Vulcan, all came across and he replaced them with two troops from his own teams. They split and moved on, they knew there wasn't any enemies for the next two hundred meters, they tossed caution to the wind and charged down the hall. They didn't stop until they reached the transporter room, which they cleared with ease and rescued a transporter officer and two security personel. They reached the bridge lifts a few seconds before the second team and Haymore's group. Haymore already had the lift doors open and was looking up and down with her rifle.

They quickly separated into four groups, a burly Andorian led the team that would go up the auxiliary shaft while Reddy and T'Kira led the team up the main. The bridge crew would be left behind to come up last while two teams spread from where they were into the surrounding corridors. Morris got the idea to climb up the air tubes and he went off on his own while they used rappels to lift themselves up and place breaching charges on the walls. Montgomery Scott's Book of Breaching a Room Tactics said that: ". . .in the case a room is not known as being occupied by friendlies or enemies, yet no contact has been established inside that room due to disrupted interior communications, assume that room is controlled by the enemy and blow the bloody hell out of it's doors if necessary." It was the main reason Reddy had read such books, for his fine Scottish humor. They had six rappels clinging to the top of the shaft, three decks above, and they hung there as they waited for the cut off for Morris to break into the bridge and tell them if it was taken.

A comm crackled and Morris came across the comms. "They don't seem to suspect, breach now." He said it calmly and quietly.

Reddy nodded to T'Kira and the whole group dropped down a level. Reddy yelled breach, which could be heard by the other team, and pressed the detonator for his spatial charge. They were showered with centimeter wide pieces of door, they thumbed their hoists and went into the fire.


	9. The Great Arc: Pilot Part Seven

So a little longer chapter right here, please enjoy it by the way, that I finally got out. Don't worry, we'll probably have two or three more chapters, next one covering the _Walker_ and subsequent concerning our main characters getting some time with their love interests or a interest of some kind as well as whatever happens to these two purpose made captains? If you have any want or need to express how you feel about the story at this point, please feel free to do so, if you have an idea for what is going to happen to certain characters, please make it known. If you want more about a certain character, please make it known so I can try and do so. (P.S. Sadly I have not been able to watch much Star Trek so I cannea say I know a lot about certain races and things in it, most of my known things are from Star Trek Online.)

Once again, please enjoy this part of our story!

 **Part 7: Second Ambush.**

The panels on the bridge were sparking and wafts of smoke rose from about the room. _Chillingsworth_ hadn't faired well pitched against five B'rels, nobody wanted to see how she'd fair against a dozen and a cruiser. Samantha O'Connell, who was directing _Chillingsworth's_ four phaser banks and two torpedo launchers, jumped as the Helm panel exploded once again, causing the helmsman to jump back. Again.

"For the love of Kahless! Get those conduits sorted so we can bloody fly out ship!" Kel'chak was tired of the human, even though he was adequately covered to prevent wounds from the sparks, who was afraid of the sparks coming from the panel. "And someone get me a bloody sitrep!"

About that time Suzanne came unto the bridge at a fast pace, she came through the deck door which utilized a set of stares from the lower deck up into the command hub, she held a PADD under her arm. "Shields are shot, outer hull is shot, warp core is all but shot." She checked the device. "And it seems that our life support is unstable, so we need to go ahead and deprive ourselves." She was frustrated and very sharp in her report.

"What's the butcher's bill?" Sooroo came from the rear platform and moved to fix the helm panel. She said it in passing.

"Twenty-five dead, seventeen wounded, three are critically."

"Any verdict?" asked Kel'chak.

"Polk is still in with them, he's stretched to his limit now. Captain Taggert was nice enough to at least leave us an actual medical staff, but other than that it's not good. DC teams are already working but we're stretched thin trying to get shields, helm, _and_ the warp core back online."

"Fine then, get down there and lend what help you can Suzanne, give them a good old Patton treatment."

Suzanne left, no smile at the Commander's joke. Sam watched as Sooroo, whose skin neutralized electricity and made her immune to the shocks of the unstable panel. The Helmsman stood to the side and looked as if he had nothing to do. Sam went back to her weapons panel and opened her communicator down to the Main Fire Control. Main Fire Control (MFC) actually had little to do with controlling the firing of the weapons, except when the bridge was unable to, but was actually there for weapon repair and management, if a bank got to hot they'd work it out and such. Right now the phasers were down due to destroyed conduits. It would take hours to repair the amount so Samantha was arguing with a Ferengi on the other side, she could never pronounce his name, that she called Smelly. They argued primarily about routing the power through a number of lesser conduits or all of them through on a small number. Sam was posing that it would be possible for some time, Smelly was saying that it was a horrible idea and had the possibility of an overload that could blast the ship into oblivion.

Suddenly when the senors blared at three enemy contacts at 11 kilometers, Sam had little to say. "Smelly."

"Yes Sam?" He asked sarcastically.

"Do it now!" She shouted and a few seconds later the panel showed yellow for firing. She began searching for solutions. "Weapons online captain!"

"Understood," Kel'chak moved to his chair. "lock onto the nearest target and fire at will."

"Helm about, ten degrees." Sooroo, still elbow deep in the wires, turned the ship at Sam's order using maneuvering thrusters. The B'rels, now just hovering out of range, were within the 250 degree arc of each set of phasers. For some reason they weren't advancing, they were sitting long enough for Sooroo to finish her work and give helm control, what little there was with the impulse engine out, back to the helmsman. She went back to her station and they realized that they were being hailed for the last five minutes.

"Onscreen." For some reason it was easy to laugh in a situation like this, just a maniacal laugh that captured the body and reflected poorly on the individual. Kel'chak had to suppress his as the face of a Klingon appeared on the screen.

"You may have escaped my first trap, traitor, but you won't escape me at Warp 1 with a damaged warp core." He was sitting very relaxed, leaning to one side, in his chair with the dark spaces of B'rel's bridge behind him. "My sensors show that you're heavily damaged, surrender now and your crew will be spared."

Kel'chak made a face that said he was considering the offer. "Sounds good, but I'm not the best Starfleet officer you know, I'd never trade my life for my crew, which will probably die as soon as you kill me the second I beam aboard. Who agrees?" he held his hands out and looked about the bridge. "The answer, is no, sir. I'll be quite happy staying aboard my fine ship here, and you, dear sir, can go and bugger yourself if you please."

The transmission wasn't terminated quickly enough to hide the yell from the Klingon, Kel'chak let out a laugh and sounded red alert. "Enemy advancing, range in three seconds." said the sensor officer.

"Weapons control has permission to fire at will."

"Aye sir." Sam bent over her panel, while the main viewscreen could focus on the enemy, Kel'chak tended to keep it forward and use the wraparound viewscreens, positioned above the heads of the wall mounted stations, Sam used her own panel's viewscreen to target the lead B'rel and fire. She waited, the whole screen was yellow saying that the weapons were not set for a fully effective firing, she didn't care, Smelly and his team would be replacing and improving her weapon power as the minutes went by. All they needed now was for the shields to come up and prevent the Klingons from piercing their long range jamming.

As soon as the B'rels entered range they fired. Bolts of energy from their turrets and main cannons appeared and came crashing down upon them. They were trying to maime her even more, but she bit back. As the group set up it's attack run, one to each side and one down the middle. The phasers began firing frantically, both began focusing on the leader, who was approaching at lighting speed, then switched to the outside as he roared over the top of their saucer and cloaked. The B'rel crossing the front was unlucky, two phasers hit in the same spot and breached the shield when it was just out of their torpedo arc. When the beams pierced they dragged across the engineering section and damaged the shield emitters. The facing was down long enough for a torpedo from the forward launcher to impact and destroy her port wing. She spun and the beams tracked her, concentrating on her as the ship began to move at Impulse 1. The white hot beams, tinged with their signature orange, cut through the helpless Klingon ship, and another torpedo finished the job. She exploded brilliantly into the night.

"Hell yeah!" cried the helmsman as he brought them further around, lining the forward banks up to fire on the second. Then a warning buzzer sounded, a volley of torpedoes slammed against the saucer, tossing the crew about like they were in a can. Sam all but fell from her chair, using the console to pull herself upright and fire at the target. This B'rel was more durable, it's shields absorbing the powerful blasts and nimbly avoiding the torpedoes fired as they came about. They put her to their starboard and once again the lasers pounded at the ship's aft shields, this all happened before Kel'chak could stand and ask for a damage report.

"Three torpedoes hit out main hull, one forward, one on our port side near the crew quarters, and one aft in engineering, Mister Goldsby reports that all is well and that he is three minutes from having us fifty percent shields." Sooroo was rushing about the rearward portion of the bridge and literally taking four different roles at once.

Kel'chak turned back as they continued pursuit of the enemy ship. It was moving off quickly, leaving them behind as their forward weapons cut against it's shields. Suddenly a beam sliced against it, they were down. Two torpedoes were launched at Sam's command. They cut their strange glowing path through the darkness of space and moved towards the B'rel. She tried to turn, just barely initiating it and managing to dodge the first, but the second hard arced out to the side and came in right on the tailpipe of the ship. The explosion was almost blinding.

"Sir, reports of Klingon boarders on deck 2!"

Kel'chak swore. "Have security teams deploy to their location, I need an armed guard outside this room now!" He looked at the mainscreen, "Where's the other."

"Cloaked sir, she must be the one beaming troops aboard." Sam reported, eyes peeled for any sign of the cloaked Bird.

"Sooroo get me six pistols up here ASAP."

Sooroo set to work relaying his orders while he moved and locked down the lifts. Then they heard a sound, an awful terrible sound, a sound that heralded death or imprisonment. Commander Alexander had been lucky to have an adjacent ready room, now that the sound came from that room, it wasn't so lucky. No one on the bridge had a pistol, and the guards were yet to make it to the bridge. The ready room door opened, and from it came four Klingons, pistols drawn and leveled at the bridge crew. The Helmsman stood, he turned to run but was cut down. The bridge was silent as they stepped over his body and ordered each crewmember to move from their post.

"So, at last I can see the traitorous baktag who had been hiding among the federation for so long." Said the tallest, he stepped right up to Kel'chak and spit in his face.

At that moment Suzanne stepped unto the bridge and stopped at the sight of the Klingons, she didn't move as the captain scanned the room, looking at all the crew, even the dead helmsman. "So, Commander, you like your little crew of humans? Pity you couldn't go all human and think you're one of them, want me to eradicate the oddball for you?" He raised his pistol.

"No!" Kel'chak reached but it was too late, Sooroo was blown back as the energy bolt hit her right shoulder. "Damn you!" He tried to move and help the alien but was held back by two of the larger Klingons.

"You are a disgrace to your race, Kel'chak!"

"Who are you, and how do you know my name!" Kel'chak fought with all his might, but he wasn't as strong as he had been after years of a desk job at the Academy.

"My name is Kadek." Kadek placed his hands behind the small of his back and stared out the viewport. "As for you, every Klingon knows you, the idiot who followed the footsteps of Ambassador Worf, Commander Kel'chak Alexander, traitor to the Klingon Empire. One who dishonors his race by not only serving, but teaching and commanding these vile enemies for centuries!"

"We were at peace with the Federation, Kadek, they deserve our respect." Kel'chak spoke quietly, causing an irritant look in Kadek's eyes.

"These dogs deserve a slow death! Something to truly dishonor them more than their ancestors!" He gazed about the bridge, his eyes fell on the young Sensors Officer. "But I'm on a schedule so I'll move quickly." He shot her, the others were struck, they couldn't believe what they saw. All were powerless to help.

A Klingon turned and brought his gun up to shoot the bridge engineer when his head lead the charge of his body getting thrown to the side. He fell heavy to the echo of a phaser rifle and both turbolifts opened and there was six streams of light reaching into the room. They missed at first but were too late to catch Kadek beaming up with Kel'chak, who he used as a shield, the final Klingon tried to surrender but did it too late.

Sometime in the fray, Suzanne had been shot in the leg. She lay writhing in pain as a medical crew came unto the bridge. Sam was over her, holding a hand and comforting her.

"Where's the captain?" she asked, gasping for air and trying not to scream.

Sam shushed her. "Kadek took him, you're in command."

Suzanne tried to chuckle but let out a squeak as the Vulcan medic roughly pulled the cloth from the wound. "Sam I'm obviously not fit for command, I need you to take up the sword and get us home." She closed her eye as the Vulcan probed the wound with his fingers.

"What about _Walker_?" Sam asked.

"Bugger _Walker_ , we're in no shape to go and fight however many Klingons she's screwing with, our priority is us, we need to get back to Earth and let them know what's going on." She clenched Sam's hand like a vice. "You're the captain Sam, make him proud." They lifted her unto a stretcher and went off at a quick rate, the Vulcan ordering nurses ahead to prepare surgery. Sam grabbed him by the arm and looked him in the eye.

"Tell me Doc." She was straight faced and serious.

"She'll be lucky if she keeps a useless leg." He shrugged her off and went away.

Sam didn't even notice them taking Sooroo from the bridge, she was trying to process all she had seen and what she was now. She turned and looked about the bridge, there was the Assistant Operation Officer (AOO), who was acting head of security, herself, and a Andorian who ran the engineering computers at the rear of the bridge. Several of the security officers were staring, they had overheard what Suzanne had said.

The AOO stepped forward, his bent his head in a fashion odd in Starfleet. "Captain, Cadet Hurar Nudum, awaiting orders." the Trill held the bow.

Sam gazed about the bridge, they were all still looking at her, awaiting her orders. "Who here has a sub-curricula of helmsman, Sensors Officer, weapons controller, Sciences, or tactical?" A number raised they hands. She pointed to a human woman, about five-four. "Name, curricula."

"Shay sir, I took tactical training." She was obviously nervous, probably wishing she hadn't raised her hand.

"Shay, take the weapons control slot, you should know the basics." Shay nodded and sat. "Sciences?" a Rigelian raised his hand, Sam pointed to the space Sooroo had occupied a minute before. She went on assigning slots, an Andorian to the helm, Smelly came up and took command of the tactical post, and a Vulcan to the Sensors. When she finished she turned to Hurar. "Get these bastard Klingons off my ship Cadet." Hurar nodded and collected the remaining troop and hustled them off the bridge. Perhaps two minutes had elapsed.

The comm panel on the captain's chair was chirping. Sam opened the channel. "O'Connell."

"Goldsby, where's the Commander, Sam?"

"We don't know, he was beamed up by a Klingon, Suzanne is injured and gave me command."

"Well then, Captain, I've got your shields back up, they won't hold well though, I'd suggest not taking on fifteen Klingon Bird-of-preys you know." Goldsby spoke in his real western drawl.

"Understood, O'Connell out." She closed the channel and looked at the main viewscreen. "Tactical report!"

Smelly looked up. "Sam, we've got our phasers fixed and the engines running at a reasonably high impulse power, we've got warp capability up to Warp Factor 3, and we just detected a B'rel leaving the area under maximum warp, she seems to be heading back towards where _Walker_ was." He checked his panel again. "Extensive damage to the door, we've got several breaches and fully penetrating shots, I'd recommend that we run home quickly, we can be within contact range of Earth in five minutes and can send help to the _Walker_."

Sam strolled around her chair. "Very well—"

"Contacts! Five kilometers! Two B'rels inbound at high speed."

"Shields up, Red Alert." The lights on the bridge dimmed, they were properly prepared for battle this time. She looked, the enemy was bearing about one o'clock off their bow and a little above. "Helm! Bring us about and line them up on our bow. Fire phasers on my command." The ship turned slowly, she hadn't yet gained all her maneuverability back, soon the B'rels lay directly in the viewscreen.

"Weapons range now sir." said Shay, voice trembling with excitement.

Sam sat in her chair and leaned forward. "Phasers fire." She said it almost so calmly Shay didn't get it at first, but she hit the button and suddenly three white-orange beams sliced through the dark and pounded their forward shields. They all fired twice. "Fire again!" Sam stood, almost jumping with anticipation.

Once again they fired, in sequence this time, and as the final one fired she saw it's track go over the wing of the B'rel. "Torpedoes, fire two!" She cried, almost bouncing at the lack of speed in which they were preparing to fire.

"Torpedoes firing!" Two sparking orange bolts came into view from the bottom of the screen. They charged headlong into the bird and crashed against it's command module. The ship kept on coming as the second torpedo crashed into the engineering section.

"Heavy damage done to enemy bird, I think she's out of it sir." Smelly reported.

"Helm come about twenty degrees, one half impulse power, target second Bird-of-prey." Sam's arms were shaking from the excitement.

This one put up a fight and opened fire. Three bright torpedoes charged at them. "Brace for impact." Called the sciences officer. The ship shook from the blast. "Shields down to thirty percent sir, no major damage."

"Helm over sixty degrees, all phasers fire as they bare."

The mainscreen turned and they could see the six beams of light tracking through the night and bombarding the shield. "Enemies facing shields down sir!" They were shook by a barrage of energy fire from the the ship.

"Helm come about and fire torpedoes." They would continue about until they had the opposite shields facing the enemy, they had taken quite the amount of damage in the few seconds the second Bird-of-prey had had them in it's sights. They drifted about again and as the bow passed the ship, three torpedoes flew free. The B'rel's captain was smart, he had shifted shields back over and turned his ship to spare it of damage. They only caused minor damage with to her. Again they brought all six phasers on her, once again weakening her until they could fire torpedoes. They swung about and once again the B'rel swung away and saved her life again. She was attacking them in a hit and run pattern, she had several turrets and they were taking their toll on _Chillingsworth's_ own shields.

"She can't take much more sir." said Smelly.

"Bring us about again, this time transfer all shields forward and don't pull off. Fire everything you have Miss Shay." Sam had sat down after being jostled by the shaking of torpedo hits.

"Aye sir!" Shay grinned eagerly and began burning up the phasers as she fired.

They came about again and this time the B'rel was charging them as well. Phasers beams and cannon blasts were exchanged alongside torpedoes. The ships shook as they played the game of chicken. _Chillingsworth_ won, the B'rel pulled away and flew, possibly less than a few meters, above the frigate and left it's rear exposed. It had transferred it's shield strength forward and _Chillingsworth_ was lucky to have an extra torpedo mount on the aft section. It took one shot up the tailpipe of the old bird to destroy her. The explosion brought cheers from the small bridge.

Sam jumped up and thrust a fist in the air, she screamed out some swear in exaltation of their spirit.

After the cheering and congratulations had subsided they found out that the first B'rel had broken down, her warpcore had gone critical and in a vain attempt to save her the captain must had forgotten to monitor his structural integrity. Her parts were now spreading quickly to hide the evidence that she was ever here. _Chillingsworth_ had some injuries from the clearing of her decks, it seemed that Kadek had intended to capture the ship and her crew and use them for one of his diabolic purposes. They could officially make Warp 1.8 and could send a message via a nearby relay station and hopefully get help to _Walker_. Neither her crew or hull were in any shape to help their sister, they would return home for a rest and hope that their friends would live long enough for help to arrive.

"Helm, lay in a course for home." Sam said, suddenly tired from the excitement.

"Aye sir."

 _Chillingsworth_ came about and left the area at Warp Factor 1.8, it would be several hours to get home and the crew would have ample time to repair the damage received on the battlefield that was now unnoticable from the rest of the empty space that dominated the area between systems.


	10. The Great Arc: Pilot Part Eight

So I think this is going to be a twelve part story, the next part will most definetly be where they finally escape Kadek and make it home, I hope.

Please enjoy and have a nice day!

 **Part 8: The Showdown.**

Things happened quickly both times the bridge was taken, both times it was bloody, quick, and very traumatic. The first time the whole bridge as the distress beacon was activated and failed to be shutdown. At the same time someone noticed a recording device on the ceiling scanning the room in a way that it was not supposed to, Captain Taggert then ordered the Sensors officer, filling in for Bernhard Morris, to lock the door to his ready room. Just as she moved to do so the door flung open and a green bolt blew her back like a shock wave. Razkii, the First Officer, had been standing around the corner with his pistol drawn, he came out to shoot but was suddenly hit by a one armed swing of a bat'leth, the heavy weapon mostly removed anything from the right side of his face to just below his armpit, his blood sprayed Elisa Flores. The tactical officer screamed and fell back, climbing under the sensors console as she tried to run from the blood that coated her front and had coated her mouth. The Fire Controller had stood, trying to do something, and was shot by the heavy pulse rifle of the leading warrior. Ash Potter had tried to stand from her spot at the helm but was shoved down by the heavy hand of a warrior who pressed their bodies together and held a dahar to her neck. The engineer brought his hands up and was spared yet was not spared a solid punch in his face.

The Captain was quickly seized by two short, yet extremely strong, Gorn who held him for the officer who stepped slowly and casually into the room. Yet all the deaths and mistreatment seemed little compared to poor T'Vrell, who was grabbed by one of the ugliest and worst of the gang and raped. She lay there screaming, several times Taggert tried to make them stop but was rewarded only with several solid punches to different areas of his body. Not even the men on the outside of the doors placing charges could hear the screams of T'Vrell as she was raped by something much to terrible to describe.

Then, only a few minutes after, the doors exploded and fire erupted into the room. Precise fire was taking the lives of the Klingons in the view of the Andorian's team coming up the second lift, while a wild spray of stun bolts did little but make the Gorn holding Taggert tired to the point they used him as a support. The Klingon holding Potter stood and drew her pistol, she was cut down by a tight beam of a rifle and didn't stand again. Yet the breach went little as planned, the Andorian's team was slow to claim the threshold and secure their blind spots, a plasma grenade rolled into them and detonated right in their faces. The shaft filled with screams as hot plasma burnt them alive. Morris broke down the grating to the airduct and slid out, shooting the thrower, he stood and aimed at the nearest Gorn. He was aiming for the next before the Klingon Officer beamed them away. The bridge was clear, ony the bodies and the shocked, scarred, and horribly frightened bridge crews that sat about.

Potter was leaning against her chair with her eyes wide, one hand massaging the scar left by the razor sharp dahar, Elisa was still crying and trying not to look at Razkii's mutilated form, while the engineer was laying in probably the best sleep he'd get in some time. The worst was T'Vrell, tears were streaming down her cheeks as she sat with her back to her station, hands covering her eyes as her skirt was hiked up to an exposing height, he panties actually lay ripped off the side.

Reddy finally conquered the threshold and gazed about the scared bridge. As T'Kira came through the door he leaned into the shaft and called for a medic. He turned and found Potter toying with a dahar.

"Ash." He spoke softly as he could force himself to.

She looked at him with a very scary look in her eyes. "Yes sir?" she said it sarcastically as she continued to do daring things like balance it on the tip of her finger and toss it from hand to hand.

"Where is Captain Taggert." He hadn't seen anything, he had dropped down to avoid a disruptor blast.

"They took him, a massive Gorn and an officer." Bernhard holstered his pistol as he made his was past T'Kira, sitting on the steps trying to comfort T'Vrell, and stood beside Potter.

Reddy swore and pushed past them, walked over and stood above Razkii's torn body, he removed his own jacket and placed it over the body. He came down to a knee and tried to talk to Elisa. "Elisa," he spoke. "Elisa." She simply stared at him, shaking and rubbing her hands across her face and neck, only succeeding in spreading the blood across her chest exposed from where she had loosened her jacket.

He stood, the medics were on the bridge now, moving among the bodies and working with them. He noticed that the Benzite he had connected with earlier was among them. Before long they were taking people off the bridge into the reactivated turbolift, they were bound for the sickbay where the combat medics would try their utmost to do what they could. They were after all, not surgeons or doctors.

"Mister Morris!" He swung about, suddenly remembering what the Vulcan had said earlier.

"Sir!" Morris had been speaking in a low voice with Potter.

"Shut off the damn distress beacon and rig us for silent running, or whatever you can do, I need a sitrep in two minutes." Reddy walked across the bridge to where a gaggle of different officer stood waiting assignment.

He pointed to the Saurian, "Fire Controller." the Ferengi, "Engineering." He looked at the Vulcan, "Helm."

"No." said Potter, she was still playing with the knife-like object.

"Pardon?" Reddy cocked his head at the woman, he noticed she was becoming wild eyed, wild eyed and even stranger than he remembered.

"I'm the helmsman Patty." She said with a maniacal voice. "I'm the designated driver laddie." She practically skipped away from him and eagerly sat in her seat. Reddy could see that Sakup was just as surprised as him.

T'Kira was already on the tactical position and Morris was coming back from the sciences station with a PADD, he came up close and made a motion saying he wanted to speak privately. "Patty." He spoke lowly, they were huddling next to the primary turbolift door. "You're not from here."

Reddy understood the very subtle hint, before he could speak again he was interrupted by a robotic voice.

"Sir." It came, calm and stoic. Reddy turned to see T'Vrell, tears had ruined her makeup and her hair looked ruffled, he uniform was torn, yet she stood straight and looked directly at him. "Cadet Haymore reports that our decks have been cleared of invaders, it appears that our Acting Engineering Officer was accidentally killed by friendly fire in the barracks area, Cadet Zarva has taken control of the room and says she has heavy damage to the warp core and can't move much quicker than Impulse 5. You Cadet Triss also reports that Damage Control parties have begun work on the damage about the hull. I can get a more detailed report in five minutes."

Reddy felt sympathy for the Vulcan, feelings or not. "T'Vrell—" he started.

"Sir, I am perfectly confident I can run my station in my current state, just as is Cadet Potter."

"Cheerio! All spiffing ready, warp core or not!" Potter's voice seemed to be stuck on one tone, crazy.

Reddy looked closely into the deep green pools that stared back without emotion. "Assume you post and get me a report Cadet." She clicked her heals and scurried off. He cast a glance at Morris that said 'need you see more?'

Reddy stepped to the bridge and looked about, meeting the eye of each crew member, except Arripak who was hidden by the console that T'Kira stood behind. He thought about saying something profound or memorable. "You may not be trained to your post, but I'm sure you'll do better than me." He hated the words the second he said them, but what was gone was gone. "Sensors." Morris jumped at the address and instinctively moved to his post.

After several seconds he spun his chair about. "Pat, it appears we're being masked inside a dense cloud of radiation, they could only detect us when our shields were up or we were firing weapons, or our beacon of course. Now that they are all off and we aren't emitting anything greater than our regular power output, they can't see us or beam aboard."

Suddenly something crackled across the speakers above them. "I know you can hear me, I know you are betting you can hide inside that radiation cloud and escape me on maneuvering thrusters. You're wrong whoever you are."

Reddy walked up to T'Vrell's post. "Can we track that channel?"

"No sir," T'Vrell checked her console. "whoever it is, they're broadcasting on an open channel that isn't direct in any sense, we can view it without being detected though."

"Put it on the mainscreen." Reddy was trying to comprehend what had happened to the woman, unsure how to treat her, his order came out more as a casual request.

The screen lit up and was dominated by the picture of a Klingon, partially bald, sitting in the throne-like chair of a captain. "I'll make this easy, open a channel and we can talk."

"Do it." Reddy ordered.

The Klingon sat back. "Ah, allow me to introduce myself, I am Captain Kadek of the I.K.S. Chot, and you are?"

"Jacques Patrick Reddy, U.S.S. _Chillingsworth_ , I answer to Commander Kel'chak Alexander only." Maybe if Kadek knew he was under a Klingon he would have some respect for Reddy.

"Ah, you speak of that baktag like he is something to be proud of don't you?" He reached ofscreen and grabbed something. "It may comfort you to know he has met his end and is soon to burn in Gre'thor." His arm came back, holding the head of Commander Kel'chak Alexande by it's neatly trimmed hair, it's expression was one of pure terror. Kadek laughed evilly, pitching his head back and tossing the head over his shoulder. "You should see your face, you miserable little man. Now," he straightened his face and became serious, "surrender you ship immediately and you will be spared."

"No." Reddy said levelly.

"You think you're brave, well maybe this will change your mind." He signaled and Captain Taggert was shoved into the screen, Kadek drew a dahar and brought it to Taggert's neck. Reddy said nothing, he was staring through the screen directly into the Taggert's eyes. "Consider your options boy, your captain and you entire crew can be destroyed, or you can live and maybe one day reclaim your honor."

Taggert's eyes did the talking, there was no life after capture by the Klingons, only days in a cell barely five square feet with sometimes hourly 'questionings', if you had no intel you were cast out to the prison planet of Rura Penthe, where you eventually stayed motionless too long and froze. There was no hope for Taggert and he knew that, they both knew that, if they gave up they could all end up like Razkii, or T'Vrell. They could be forever locked in this brawl, to do wrong or right.

"Tell this boy to surrender before I blow him and those children out of the sky!" Kadek hauled Taggert up and pressed the dahar harder into his neck, drawing a small stream of blood.

"Mister Reddy," Taggert's voice was strained and pleading. "do what you must, I post you as captain of my ship and give you a battlefield promotion to lieutenant."

There was tapping and the sound of someone doing quick work on a computer, Reddy didn't look away, to do so would signal weakness and distraction.

"Morris!" she warned, too late. Suddenly three torpedoes were launched and tracking their way through space.

Taggert was suddenly hauled back from the screen, a sudden laugh silenced by the rise and fall of a dahar. They last heard of him, before the transmission was terminated, letting out a loud gurgling cry. Reddy spun and looked at Morris.

"Bernie what did you do?" He asked irritantly.

Bernhard stood and nodded towards the screen. They all watched as the camera followed the track of the torpedoes all the way around the rear of the ship and off. They finally exploded against an invisible object that shook and bucked at their striked.

Reddy caught on quick. "Weapons, phasers fire on that target."

"Sir phasers are heavily damaged, we don't have much juice."

"FIRE, DAMNIT, FIRE!" They fired, their rear torpedo launcher and two working phaser arrays cut paths through the radiation cloud and brought forth more explosions from the object trying to escape. "Helm come about one hundred eighty degrees." They came slowly about, torpedoes and phasers pounding at the object. When the forward launchers came about they fired rapidly, a full spread of four impacting the target. Then it disappeared. Their shots missed and they stopped.

"Enemy seems to be holding off, I think I detected heavy damage, I'm surprised she still has cloaking capabilities." T'Kira announced.

Reddy faced the sensor panel, Morris was busy with his headphones and screens trying to find their opponent. He spoke his name, Morris didn't move. "Morris!" He said more firmly. Morris sat up and looked at him. He took his headset off. "Why did you do that Morris?" he said flatly.

"He was going to die anyway. It would have been what he wanted."

"You don't know that, we could have saved him!" Reddy was angry, he shouted to let Morris know.

"Unless you didn't realize, that wasn't a B'rel or D7, that was a fucking great battlecruiser! She'd have dealt with us in half a minute if they hadn't wanted to capture us!" Morris stood and shouted as well.

"You made a command decision without orders from anyone above you."

Morris stepped up close and spoke in a low voice. "I made the decision to fire before you were made my captain."

Reddy could feel the anger building up inside of him, burning white hot like a phaser blast. He bit his lip and tried to calm himself, he couldn't stand to look at the man's face, it's hard lines, firm jaw, and auburn hair, too much like him, they were all infuriating. He had simply thought of killing Taggert and sparing him the pain, yet he had never wanted to press the button, and now that Taggert was dead he knew it was wrong. He had to banish the thoughts and try to cope with what had happened, but he could not have Morris on the bridge.

"Mister Morris." he said. "You are hereby confined to quarters, go there and do not leave them unless given express permission from me or my second."

Morris moved in closer, challenging Reddy's will. "Is that an order, Patrick?" He said sarcastically.

"Mister Morris I can toss you in the brig if I see fit. Now return to your quarters before I have you escorted there."

"Is that an order, Patty? Last I looked you weren't from this ship."

Neither of them knew why they were arguing, they didn't exactly care either. Captain Taggert was dead, dozens of other people were dead, and they probably weren't going to survive, so what was a small argument other than a bit of fun?

"Taggert made him the captain, he's a lieutenant too. So he's in charge Bernie." Said T'Kira, she had moved about and was trying to pull Morris back.

"Go, now." Reddy finally said sternly. "That's an order."

Morris let up at that last word, he straightened, clicked his heels in a comical fashion and quick marched to the turbolift. With a buzz and short wait he was gone from the room. In confines of the lift, unknown to everyone else, he was punching the wall as hard as he could without hurting his hands, he kicked it as well. Just as the lift stopped and the door came open he stopped and walked from the lift to his quarters like nothing had happened.

Reddy plopped in his captain's chair, looking at the faces about. "Rig for silent running, get us fixed and ready for what's coming next."

And they did.


	11. The Great Arc: Pilot Part Nine

So the twelve chapter rule is still applying. I'll probably say more since I just write to write. We'll definitely see problems come for our heroes in the future, maybe even a separation that spreads the story out. Which is why I've decided to do it by episodes, each episode covering a different view or possibly several views. If you wish you can express which character you'd like so see playing in different chapters of the game, and if you'd be interested in new characters. I'm already going to implement two younger characters as Escort commanders in later episodes when we get to Nimbus (hehehe), please let me know what you'd like to see from this story and please be sure to give me some reviews. I really want to know how I'm doing and what you think of it, TALLYHO!

 **Part 9: Fighting back.**

Within ten minutes the impulse was back up above at least ten, they could only run it around thirty for so long before it put to much strain on the engines, and Reddy ordered the ship towards a nearby asteroid. He was hoping that the asteroid, a large concentration of radiation, would mask their ship's signal and prevent any of the Klingons from jumping them while their shields were down. For thirty minutes they held there, waiting and metaphorically crouching away from the enemy, something like a snake hiding under a rock, scared senseless of the footsteps about it, but it would bite if it must.

Finally the clock struck forty-eight minutes before the Acting Engineering Officer (AEO), a Bolian named Zarva, and Triss both stepped unto the bridge. Along shortly was the Benzite that seemed to have been prowling about the medical offices for some time.

Reddy, who had some experience working as an electrician, had been fixing a panel at the rear of the bridge when they came up. He moved from his position and looked at them. "Report."

Zarva looked at Triss and Triss nodded back to Zarva and Zarva gave the report. "I've got shields back up sir, they'll hold at about eighty percent but we don't have much reserve for them, they did a number when they beamed troops into our engine room. We can't make anything past Warp 6 without overloading the core, let alone travel at Warp 4 for more than an hour. Our Phasers work and I've managed to set up some auxiliary batteries to give them the juice they need without draining the shields, and we've repaired most of the holes they punched in our hull."

Reddy nodded, thinking. They seemed to be well off, they could easily fight their way from the system if they had too, he looked at the Benzite who was looking as if she was waiting for her turn. She was biting whatever type of covering she called a fingernail. "Do you have something to add, Cadet?"

She looked up. "Yessir," she bit her nail again. "We've got thirty-eight dead, fifteen missing—probably killed by incineration—and forty more in the sickbay with three currently under the knife. We also have sent about eighteen back to their quarters due to inability to fill their posts," she paused and did some calculating, "that means we have one hundred and eight crewmen shaken up and tired. Not to mention confused and not too sure what has been going on." She went back to biting on her nails.

"Do you have a name?" Reddy asked with a condescending voice.

"O'Konnell, spelled with a K for you convience." She made a flamboyant and mocking bow.

"What's your training, O'Konnell?" he tried the word, adding more K to the word than needed.

She straightened. "Operational Combat Medic with a sub-curricula of more medical training, I'm certified to be a basic medical examiner and may even do battlefield surgery if required." her whiskers twitched as she gave a type of smile, it was hard to tell due to the strangely shaped face.

"Who is the chief medical officer now?" Reddy inquired.

"Some Rigelian with an attitude named Rigii, but that's just because I have a weak stomach and do not have a slot in medical. I've been too busy being the errand runner for him and other Operations managers." For some reason the voice did not sound like other Benzites, it was hard for Reddy to discern voices anyway, but it seemed very human and very hard New Yorkan. Her attitude didn't make it any better.

Reddy stood and considered his options, it was a difficult decision. They were currently rigged for silent running, which meant they couldn't use their long range sensors, communications, or exterior lights. They had reduced their signature so small, it would take quite the amount of focus to get a bad image of them. He turned to Sakup at the Sensors station. "What's the situation with Klingons."

Sakup looked from where she had been sitting with Bernhard's headset on. "I can't detect anything," she made the quotation signs with her hands, "'solid', but I can detect dense partical clouds moving about as well as see the occasional shadow."

"Think they can see us?"

Sakup glanced back at the panel. "I think they're either scared or trying to patch Kadek up, if he is still alive. If they're scared we probably have a limited time before Kadek orders them into 'glorious' battle, at which point we could be set upon by more than we can handle."

"So if we went out there and they were busy helping Kadek, we catch a few off guard, or at least the few they said to search for us?" T'Kira asked.

"Precisely, I calculate that we have about a seventy-two point three-six-two percent chance of being able to fight off any ships they throw at us for a period of twenty minutes." Even as human as they seemed, both T'Kira and Sakup still acted extremely logical and robotic when making an analysis.

"What makes you say that." Triss retorted, crossing her arms.

T'Vrell, no noticing the question, faced the group. "I have been reviewing the combat footage and telemetry on the ships that we have encountered, it appears that many of them are 23rd century B'rel Bird-of-preys, many don't even have shields. I did detect some of the more powerful QulDuns, but I deduce that Kadek will want his best ships and crews helping and escorting him. He will most likely send out his less effective ships to search and scout us and only engage unless we are trying to run."

"But we only have one hundred and eight crew, it takes a single Bird-of-prey to outnumber us, and we may need to go someway before we're clear to use Warp." Spoke O'Konnell.

"If we can move quick enough, we can make it from the system." Reddy looked at Zarva. "What's my impulse power at?"

"Thirty, roughly, you'd fry a couple circuits if you ran them like that for too long." Zarva never seemed sure what to do with her hands, the slightly more mature, close to her thirties almost, being had started drumming her fingers on her thighs and had shifted them about as the group conversed.

Sakup had been looking for avenues of escape. "There are two ways out of here, on is straight out the way we came in, the other is one on the other side of this asteroid field." was studying her screen as she spoke. "The first is most likely to have Klingons along it, but as we were discussing there may be little, it's also shorter, two minutes at Impulse 30. The other, however, is longer and takes us away from where we think they are, we can move at a lower Impulse speed but we have to move through a dust cloud filled with radiation that is affecting our sensors even now." She turned back to them.

Reddy took his open hands and pressed the finger tips together bringing it up and placing the pointer and middle above and below his lips respectively. "So if we take the fast way, we can burn our Impulse power to a crisp, or we can take the other and be sensor blind and open for an ambush." Tekz had left his post as Fire Controller and had his arms crossed. He looked very human, yet very scary, with his big yellow eyes on the side of his head, at the same time.

"Correct, if we go the long way we will also have to raise shields to protect us from radiation." Sakup said.

Reddy dropped his hands and gathered their attention. "We'll have to vote on it." eyebrows raised and someone made a comment that this was a ship, not a democracy, it sounded like Potter. "It's logical, I'm not your captain and all our heads together can make a more precise and logical decision than mine alone." He pointed to Sakup. "What do you think."

Sakup looked back to her console, then back into Reddy's eyes. "Logical calculations determine that the fast way is the safest and best, we can run quickly and even not shoot back."

"That's right," realized Zarva, "if needed I can hook up some more batteries to the weapons, or just leave the ones I have, and give the shields all the juice they need to survive. If needed I may even, and this is a mighty big 'be able' coming up, be able to give all my energy to shields and we can engage anything simply with torpedoes. If you're wondering, I can't put energy into the engines, they're much more complicated and I was expecting to be put on a Centaur-class."

"Two for." Reddy announced.

"Auch I'mea not oone to live on t'e line, me parents alway' urged for me to get intea the stocks buiseness sinceea I was abroad on earth and the likes." Arripak smiled, almost letting out a ridiculous laugh. "I think naow that we'es should live no, we's got a hun'red eight ab'ard here, let's get them home quickly eh?"

Reddy nodded to him and looked at the undecided. Triss shifted. "I'll follow you Patty, it's the whole reason I volunteered for this rescue mission." She crossed her arms and wandered over to stand beside Reddy.

T'Kira straightened, she had a habit of slumping when not talking. "I'll follow you. Captain" She added. Reddy smiled and nodded to her.

"Odds are stacked against me, so I'll be glad to shoot at some Klingons in space for a change." Tekz, it was hard not to think of his name as Tex, nodded almost reluctantly.

"You thinking is logical, better to face our enemy rather than run and possibly be ambushed by one of the QulDun ships." T'Vrell stood and nodded agreement.

That left Potter, who was busy drumming her console like an impatient teenage. "Waiting on you is like waiting on my mother to get from the commodities store, which is the whole reason I'm on this ship here." She swung her chair around and leaned back. "I'm right behind you captain, once more unto the breaches and on to victory! The battle is about to begin!" She sounded crazy, and she looked it too with the dahar she kept juggling around, but Reddy could see something sincere behind her eyes.

"Very well then, we're going to charge them, I want all stations at full combat readiness in three minutes." He nodded to them and they moved off, Triss would probably go back to the Damage Control parties, and Zarva would go squeeze what she could from their impulse engines. He looked at O'Konnell, who was simply leaning against the tactical station, once again messing with her nails. He approached and asked her what she was doing.

"I didn't get a vote." She said rebelliously.

Reddy frowned, "You aren't part of my staff."

"Am I not? What if I told you I was senior Medical Officer?" She did not move or try to show Reddy any respect.

"You said a Rigelian was in charge there." Reddy was puzzled.

"Oh so you think, he is just a NCO for one, and number two is that he is missing half of his left hand. He has to direct the nurses in surgery, he realizes that I'm senior to him and have full authority of the medical staff by succession." She had a look of contempt on her face.

Reddy could feel a bit of anger welling at the back of his mind. "So you're my Acting Medical Officer?"

She came to attention and gave flamboyant salute. "Sir, Cadet Zoko O'Konnell reporting for duty." she was mocking him, she didn't respect him at all.

"Bugger off my bridge, Cadet. And get back to the sickbay." He pushed past her and stood before his chair. She cleared the bridge and he looked about. He met their eyes and smiled. "Red Alert, all hands to battlestations!"

The lights went red and the bridge darkened slightly to allow a better combat environment. The crews was leaning over their consoles as Reddy was waiting for T'Vrell's report. She finally raiser he head.

"Sir, all stations report combat ready."

"Thank you, T'Vrell. Miss Potter, lay in our route." Reddy checked the time, it had taken about a half a minute since all the crews were already at their posts.

Potter worked at her panel, rapidly pressing buttons and making calculations. "Sir, course is laid in!" there was evil excitement behind her voice, like someone about to pull a horrible prank and was giddy with the anticipation.

"Very well, all ahead flank!" The ship began to rush forward. "Sakup, secure from silent running. Tactical: Shields and weapons at maximum." their shields were coming on and their weapons were becoming hot.

For thirty seconds the bridge was quiet. "Sensors?"

"Nothing on the screen sir, looks like we may just make it." Sakup said, she jinxed them. "Enemy on sensors!" She cried, "It's right in front of us!"

Reddy looked out the door, he could see it, a great hazy field of undulating space materializing a massive object. His head dropped when he realized it was a bloody Negh'Var Warship, it was directly before them a few different of them. He recovered quickly. "All weapons commence firing! Helm over twenty-degrees, down fifteen!" The ship shifted as her phasers began their constant firing, they were shaking from fire that was coming from the lone battleship.

A torpedo hit near the bridge and shook some of them from their seats. "Christ on a bike!" shouted Potter as she struggled to keep them on course.

"Helm a starboard thirty degrees, take us in close Potter!"

 _Walker_ began an evasive dance. She was buying for time, her enemy had three times the amount of armor, shield strength (when at full potential), and weapon batteries, running straight away would be suicide and submit her to the heavy firing of her disruptor banks and multiple torpedo launchers. She tried to stay on the Negh'Var's starboard, or right, and pound her shields there, one or twice she ran afore her torpedoes and was dealt damage before she was safely alongside her again. She still took damage, the heavy phasers of her must have been damaged for only three beams reached for _Walker_ at one time, and occasionally a torpedo from _Walker_ would be lucky and do something more than send concussive waves through the shields it hit. They could see the damage but still they were starting to lose the fight, especially as the helm slowly began to become sluggish.

Reddy was sitting in his chair, he thumbed the side panel and hailed Engineering. "Zarva, get me something good, I need more shields!"

It was hard to hear Zarva over the whine of bridge sirens and the explosion of conduits when a hit was critical. "I don't know how, it's either you lose weapons and get shields, or keep weapons and try to evade to spare the shields."

"You mean you can't give me anything useful?" Reddy ducked as another conduit exploded and showered him and T'Kira with sparks, he could feel them through the thin silk shirt he was supposed to wear under his Academy uniform, his jacket had been carried off and disposed with Razkii's body.

"Not without endangering our ship, it's tricky hooking a battery up to the shields and I'm not keen on doing while sparks are spraying me." The mature Bolian's voice was trembling and irritated, loud sirens and conduit explosions were coming over with her voice. "Now I've got a core breach to deal with so excuse me."

"Wait!" Reddy ordered, but she had already closed the line and gone off.

The ship shook, this time he fell forward from his chair. Potter swore and throttled forward, charging straight under the bow of the Klingon cruiser. The green disruptor beams could be seen bracketing the camera that was working as the viewscreen, another strike shook them, then Sakup looked up.

"Target on sensors!"

Reddy swore profusely.

"It's a Federation ship!"

"Onscreen!" Reddy yelled, the bridge was loud with a breach alarm and sparks flying. He saw it now, a _Ushaan_ -class that was hailing them back, soon a seemingly human face came unto the screen. Reddy quickly noticed it was not a human but a Bajoran male with very wild hair and sllepy eyes.

"You look like you could require help, no?" He said with a smile.

"Cadet Jacques Reddy, U.S.S. _Walker_ , any would be gladly accepted."

"Lieutenant Commander Aaki Keln, U.S.S. _Memphis_ , we'll clean this up in a few minutes." He laughed nervously and the screen faded back to the battle at hand. The screen was filled with static for a few moments from a close by hit.

 _Memphis_ ran like a madman into the battle, her dual phaser banks opened up along side her two three-sixty banks and two more cannons. She had a single torpedo tube and it added to the massive amount of fire focused on the Negh'Var's port, right, side. For a minute they were separate, _Walker_ tried to survive on the starboard side, while _Memphis_ made sweeping and deadly passes on the Klingon's port and drained the shields. Keln was a career captain, he was known for his daredevil piloting and sometimes giving the chair to his helmsman and taking the spot himself. He would dive in until he almost had no room to pull out and throttle up as much as he could and bank back around at ten kilometers. His ship had the firepower for it and was doing it well. Reddy soon ordered his ship over to Keln's side and cut Impulse. The ship turned on maneuvering thrusters and sat, at nine kilometers, and fired his phasers in. In an epic moment they noticed they'd downed their enemies port shield.

"All over, torpedoes fire as they load!" He was desparate, _Memphis_ was on an outward path and didn't have a torpedo tube that would bare. He had to act, they slowly brought the ship around and locked torps on. Tekz let out an old human term saying fish away as torpedoes fired. Five had left the tubes when the first one struck. _Walker_ ran forward, still firing and laying hell upon the exposed flank.

On the bridge of I.K.S. Chot, Captain Kadek stood as he was shook by the second and third torpedoes. He yelled for his First Officer, he saw him laying dead, face a bloody mess from where his panel exploded in his face.

"Sir! Comms are down, shields are no more and our warp core is going critical! We must abandon ship." The third officer, regretted Kadek, was a Gorn, his hissing voice was more of a bellow in the explosions racking the bridge. "We've lost her sir!"

 _Stupid creature_ , throught Kadek, _I should kill him for such suggestions!_ But then the engineer yelled: "Explosions in the engine room, out core is about to detonate."

Kadek's last thought before he was suddenly beamed away was one of pure anger at the face of that man, Reddy was his name, as he looked stoically at his captain who laughed at the torpedo that killed him and crippled his ship. The Chot exploded in a bright flash of fire and smoke, the explosion shook the _Memphis_ at three kilometers away. The blast slowly disappeared as the oxygen that the fire fed on was depleted.

The bridge of the _Walker_ watched in silence as the remains of the ship disappeared into space. Sakup glanced down at her panel. "I'm detecting several fleeing warp signatures, I think we've scared the away temporarily."

" _Memphis_ is hailing us sir." T'Vrell reported, Reddy had her put it on the screen.

"That was dramatic, wonder what he was carrying eh?" Keln joked. "I'd escort you back to Earth but I can't, I'm going to poach around here for more Klingons."

Reddy nodded. "How'd you know we were here?"

Keln laughed. " _Chillingsworth_ limped past Pluto and we were patrolling the area, I'll get an earful for helping you, abandoning my post and such."

" _Chillingsworth_ is alive?" Reddy was astonished.

"Yes, bless them, but she's worse off than you and lost her captain. Person named O'Connell is in charge of her. Speaking of which, you introduced yourself as a cadet, where's your captain?"

Reddy looked at his feet and gathered the thought. "Captain Taggert's body was aboard that ship we just destroyed."

Keln's face went down, his cheery smile faded. "I'm sorry to hear that Jacques, I bid you luck, and I suggest you hurry home and report to Starfleet."

Reddy strained to hold some tears. "Thank you sir, good luck sir."

Keln nodded and closed the channel. The viewscreen showed his engine trails retreating off in the distance as he chased after Klingon particle signature.

Reddy dipped his head and turned it. "Damage report."

"Minimum sir, we have a few casualties and a hull breach forward, but we're alive and well." Arripak had to almost shout to be heard from his station on the far aft wall.

Reddy let out the first breath of relief he felt he had in years. He closed his eyes and felt his way into his seat. They were safe and alive, they may all live to be commanders or full ensigns even. He kept them closed until T'Kira expressed her concern. He opened them slowly.

"Potter, you crazy nut, lay in course for home." He smiled at how he addressed her. "Best possible speed."

"Aye sir, but who's home."

Reddy shook his head at her. "Just take us back to earth Ash."

They ship came about and was soon in position to jump away. "Here we go." she said as she pressed the button and they flew off, finally going home after only a few hours away.


	12. The Great Arc: Pilot Part Ten

So we're nearing the conclusion, be prepared for something a little spicy the next chapter. I'll probably make it a multi part chapter with several shorter scenes as the characters finally end their long day. (FYI: This entire story took place somewhat within a period of three or so hours, upon their return they were ordered to Rear Admiral Jorel Quinn's office in the Earth Spacedock for questioning. I did add Jorel Quinn in, this is mainly because I'm only following Cryptic's storyline very losely, I'll extend time periods and other stuff. Bla bla bla. By the way, please note that I will mark, for those of you who don't exactly care about sex scenes, explicit chapters either with the work 'Explicit' or an asterisk.)

Please enjoy.

 **Part 10: Debrief.**

The room was occupied by seven people, it was expansive yet dark, leaving the four hanging back near the rear of the room, at a position of relaxed attention, harder to see. At the front was the final three, two standing with another, higher ranking, sitting behind a desk with a single light, which was providing most of the light for the room, shining on his PADD. The Trill's face was still young enough for him to be free of wrinkles and a strangely bad drooping of the lips, which made him look like he was always frowning, yet he was not free of white hair. His mutton-chop beard was already streaked with more white than his casually blonde hair, which was starting to lose it's own color. His lips were already far enough down, the beard didn't help make him look any friendlier, as he read the mission report compiled from the separate reports of officers aboard _Walker_ and _Chillingsworth_. Samantha and Reddy had both been standing at attention for some time now, and Suzanne Mckahan was getting tired of leaning on her crutch that was supporting her where he leg had been hit. It could have been and hour before Rear Admiral, Lower Half, Jorel Quinn looked from the reports and glanced between the two.

"So," he started, his voice irritated. "I'm to understand that both of you took command of your ships, while bypassing the First Officers?" They replied with yes. "And you claim that neither First Officers were able to take command at that moment, and the Second Officers were indisposed." He looked at Elisa Flores, standing beside T'Kira, at the rear of the room. "How were you indisposed Flores?"

Elisa straightened, she didn't like to talk about it but she was on the spot. She swallowed and started slowly. "Right as the bridge was assaulted, First Officer Razkii was hiding in the lee of hallway, sir. He had intended to try and attack the Klingons, but one swung a . . ." She bent her head down and tried to collect herself, T'Kira finished for her.

"Sir, Cadet Razkii was attacked by a Klingon with a bat'leth." She motioned with her hand. "The blade cut from the lower part of his face, all the way to about six inches under his right armpit. The blood was violent and had covered Cadet Flores, when we came unto the bridge and Cadet Flores was hiding and would not even communicate."

"Is that true?" Quinn showed minor annoyance at the Vulcan's interference.

Elisa nodded and drew in a ragged breath, trying to compose herself. Neither Reddy or Sam could see this if not for the window, which the darkened room turned into a mirror. Quinn looked at Mckahan. "And I'm to understand that you believed that a wounded knee would be enough to give command to the Weapons Controller?" He was very cynical and curt in his words.

"Yes sir." Mckahan said, as level as a Vulcan.

"And it did not occur to you that there may be a Second or Third Officer more qualified for command? Do you know that staff positions aboard a vessel on it's training cruise are determined by qualification? Hence why sometimes a medical officer has been the Second Officer rather than just a doctor?"

Mckahan swallowed, she shifted on her crutch. "Sir, the Third Officer was busy attending to me and other crew members, he never could have fulfilled the role without abandoning his post, the Second Officer was killed on the bridge, I myself was lucky to have survived."

"And you, Mister Polk, do you agree?"

The Caitian, not terribly interested in military authority most of the time, as a doctor, was extremely courteous in the presence of a Rear Admiral. "Sir, I was indeed helping many wounded, as well as trying to save Miss Mckahan's damaged leg." He spoke reverently to Quinn, it did little to impress the Trill.

Quinn looked back at the reports, then looked back at the officers in the rear of the room. "You are all dismissed, get out of my office." He said, calmly but with a harsh voice. They all left, Polk and T'Kira helping Suzanne move quickly from the room. He looked back at the two standing, still at attention, before his desk. He leaned back. "You can relax now kids." They did, finally getting to more than stare at their reflections in the window, Sam swore she could finally hear something other than the silent Spacedock office. He told them to seat and they pulled the two chairs over against the wall up to the front of the desk. They sat and Quinn let out a great sigh. "Do you know why I asked questions derived from the report you two placed before?" It seemed like everything Quinn ever said was a question, neither of them had an answer. "I noticed that the report was put together by you and you alone, no usually I wouldn't question it, except in light of the worst facts uncovered since time travel."

Reddy's eyebrow creased. "What facts, sir?"

Quinn let out a chuckle. "Lies, Mister Reddy, lots of them. Enough that it made me sick for a week when I heard about how many of them had passed my predecessors desk, and even now. I almost lost my lunch when I heard I was a suspect, thankfully I cleared myself and have this posting thanks to my honesty." it took him several moments to notice they had no idea what he was talking about. "These lies, m'lads, are reports, entire accounts of battle and missions and encounters that actually never existed. People paid and threatened have put about a hundred captains in their seats in the last four years, that the extent of your time at the academy, and we've had little to know about it until three months ago. They never taught you at the academy to look with absolute cynicism at _any_ report you read, even if it comes from someone you knew since you were a child, even if their record is spotless, whatever you can think of, don't trust them." He stood and walked over and poured himself a cup of water from the pitcher on a table at the corner of the window. "Hell, we've got possibly falsified reports dating back not just to James Kirk, but bloody Jonathan Archer! We believe that some captains, bribed or blackmailed their crew into falsifying reports and working to improve their status. We have little proof, simply incongruities in reports and footage, and we believe some of the quicker made captains today have done so due to wealthy families and by promises to get them to the top." He returned with a glass for either of them and sat. "Certain races are worse at it, due to restrictions we have placed on Andorian military jurisdiction, Andorians have been the trouble for the past few months, but humans are making a comeback. We have been scared that many young career and even non-career cadets, like you, who come from royal bloodlines and wealthy families have been very expansive in their work, and it's also a problem that Vulcans have gotten unto the wagon now."

"How? I'd think that Vulcans wouldn't care who was the captains or not." Sam sipped her water.

"You'd think that," huffed Quinn. "but it appears, that humans and other races are 'illogical' in 'strategic thinking' and they are pressing for another thirty Vulcan's be given command of, and I quote, 'nothing less than a heavy cruiser as an insult'. The Vulcan Admirals and idiots trying to indicate what the Admiralty should do are calling for _thirty_ , there's hardly that many human and Andorian Rear Admirals put together, and are insisting that they immediately be placed on nothing less than a _Dakota_ -class, and saying that would be an insult!" Quinn sat back and wiped a hand across his head, it was rather warm in the office. "I don't see what Starfleet is coming too, we've got liars and power struggles, Klingons biting our asses so hard we just ignore it, and bloody Romulans, Gorn, and Orions all trying to screw us over. It makes no sense that people are calling Starfleet 'racist', when only twenty percent of our captains are human, and that we are a dilapidated group of 'mercenaries' that 'can't even protect their interior routes from Klingons'. I say, if I was more than just a man behind a desk, I'd have eradicated those mercenaries quicker than you could be ambushed by them." He plopped back from where he had leaned forward.

Neither knew what to say, they just sat and stared at this Trill Admiral, only in his early forties, who seemed drawn as taught as a tight-rope. They either looked about the room or stared at the floor and their water glass. He sat up after a few seconds. "Here is how it is, neither of you should actually be taking command of your ships, _Chillingsworth's_ command was given to a Weapons Controller, who's position on the chain only comes after the tactical officer. With the First Officer still alive, although injured, she should have taken command and had any say in your movement decisions. I'll get hell for this, but you are still on the training cruise, you'll continue your course and you will take position as Acting Captain." He looked at Reddy as if he had said something stupid and interrupted him at the same time. "As for _Walker_ , which is a much more difficult case, Mister Reddy will resume command of the ship as an Acting Lieutenant and Training Captain, you'll have a full Starfleet Commander on board, so will _Chillingsworth_ but she'll have someone less intersting and actually part of the crew, and he will evaluate your ability command and the crew's attitude towards you. If at the end of the thirty day stint given for training cruises, you are believed capable of command, you will be given command of _Walker_. As for _Chillingsworth_ , she'll possibly get either a new commander or remain under the status as a trainer until she either does something extremely incredible, which I will not believe, or until Acting Lieutenant O'Connell is qualified for command. Which means if I can't find a more qualified Lieutenant to command your little frigate, you're set as a captain of a transport."

Sam seemed slightly taken aback as he referrer to her ship as such, but she managed to hide it from the Trill. "Yes sir."

"You two have done some impressive things inside the afternoon, I suggest you go to your ships and get some rest, I've scheduled for you to leave by noon tomorrow." He stood, walked around the table and handed them both a data chip. "These are your movement orders, they'll dictate the starting movements for the next week, after that you're on your own. Remember that once you leave Sol, you cannot return for any reason, unless it's _that_ critical, for thirty days. You can lay up at Starbase 24 for repairs and in other locations to repair your ships, but for no longer than five days, and your crews must stay aboard until the time is up. Is that clear?" It was. "Now, you're dismissed, get out of my office so I can close up for the day."

The both stood and saluted, Quinn returned it and harshly ordered them out. Once they were gone he smiled warmly, and with a twinkle in his eyes, he closed up the room. Starfleet had many problems, but those two were going to be the least of them, nobody wanted a _Miranda_ -class or a crossed frigate, not even the most humble career captain, and that meant those two were bound to have their first commands withing the next thirty days.


	13. The Great Arc: Pilot Part Eleven (Expli)

So, things get spicy in this chapter as leading character Samantha O'Connell and her First Officer have to let try and relax and calm themselves.

 **Part 11: Intoxicated.**

It was a hop-skip back unto _Chillingsworth_ , a short queue for the transporters and Sam, Suzanne, and Polk were all standing on the transporter pad when Reddy stepped up and held out a hand. He shook with Sam and wished her luck. They beamed away. Polk excused himself and said he was going to celebrate their victory with some synthale, Sam shook her head and went to her quarters. She had just laid down, still fully clothes when a knock came on the door. She stood and straightened her jacket.

"Enter." she said. The door slid open to reveal Suzanne standing there, leaning on her crutch with a bottle of something in her hand. Sam walked over and helped her into the room and to the leather couch that was an ugly brown yet extremely comfortable. Suzanne plopped heavily, propping her bad leg on the coffee table nearby, she handed Sam the bottle.

"I thought you would want some kind of a drink." It was a bottle of Chateau Picard, something that Sam had heard spoken highly of by certain people related to her.

"I don't drink, never have, never want to." Sam sat the drink down. She sat in the chair across from the couch, placing her palms on the front edge and leaning forward. "But I would love some comforting conversation." She had never admitted such at the Academy, she had always practiced the technique of evasion, always finding a reason to not use her weekend pass in the bars around San Francisco. Suzanne didn't seem surprised.

"It looked like it, I always thought you were one of those." She shifted and scratched at the regenerated skin of her wounded leg. "I guess I can provide the other."

"Suzanne, I don't understand why they are acting like this, why in the hell would we'd fake being attacked? Why would they assume that we'd kill so many of our crew and blast holes in our ship, and every damn thing that happened to us, just so I, or Patty, could be captains? Who the hell would do something like that." Sam felt as though she was pleading.

"It's not that it didn't happed Sam, it's that they think we may have dramatized it, or _tweaked_ the records just enough to seem that things were different. And I feel we were lucky, mainly because we were both attacked by the same Klingon, and we both confirmed that Kel'chak had gone missing. There was enough evidence between us, and in the reports, to confirm that we not lying." She had sat up, grabbed the bottle and studied it's back, she sat it back down after several seconds. "It doesn't make sense Sam, but what does these days? Andorians losing their right for a military beyond their system? Gorn and Orions trying to break free of their chains? Starfleet seems to be falling apart, and so is the Federation." She placed a hand on her head and slumped against the couch. "It feels like there is nothing solid to hold on to when you think about it." She said, defeated.

Sam was quite, they both were for a long minute. She studied Suzanne, who was looking at the ceiling, gazing at her blonde hair kept up in a pony tail with that cute single bang hanging down in her way. She liked how Suzanne looked mature, taller and broader than the multitude of young female officers, yet still with a fine body with fit hips and a large bust. Her face was well cut and looked fine with it's thin cheeks and thin lips. Her eyes were larger than most, staring back at anyone in a deep brown color. The Midwestern, not as western as Sam, was a beauty, filled with confidence yet intelligence. Her voice was always even, a flat accent that was usually pondering and asking the same questions more than once. Under her skin was something a little naughty, Sam had always seen it, and had let her imagination go wild at times.

She grew tired of the silence and stood, walked over to the sofa and plopped on it right next to Suzanne. She bit her lip and considered her next words. "What do you think Suzanne?"

"Pardon?" She asked, looking to the side at Sam, their eyes met.

"About me," Something felt electric about the thought of her pale blue crashing against the dark brown. "about me being Captain when you're actually supposed to be."

Suzanne smiled sweetly, looking back up. "I'm not one to quote history," Sam laughed at that, Suzanne had failed her early history exams with flying colors. "But when John Adams was elected President of the United States, and Thomas Jefferson ended up his Vice President. The one thing they did was shake hands and agreed to work together, no matter what." She suddenly leaned her head against Sam's shoulder, moving to get comfortable. "It's no matter that I may absolutely hate your guts for taking my place, I know that you probably deserve it more than me and will probably do just as well. Not to mention, a captain leads the charge, even on the ground, so I wouldn't be going very far." She tapped her leg—Polk had managed saving it from amputation but it was almost 90 percent ineffective, Suzanne could twitch it and feel an occasional irritable itch in it, yet it looked perfectly fine and was extremely smoothed from where the skin had quickly regenerated thanks to 25th Century medical practices. "The fact is," She moved her head, propping her chin on Sam's shoulder. "I don't really care about command, I don't feel ready even now, and I think I can get along with you enough to be a good First Officer." She set her head back and was silent. They sat there for a few seconds, Sam felt like she was in a trance by Suzanne's nearby body. She could feel the close breath and warmth, she did something she thought she'd never do.

Sam stood, causing Suzanne to grumble, but she turned and faced Suzanne. She bent down and pushed the blonde's leg off the table and sat on Suzanne's lap. She sat there close to her, their chests only a few inches apart, heads even closer. She just sat there for a few moments, staring into the dark pools and dreaming of them as she came in closer and kissed her. It was a small kiss at first, then it became deeper as they fought for the dominance. They were captivated by a hunger for each other, Suzanne's hands ran up under Sam's jacket and rubbed across her ribcage, trying to reach her boobs. Sam stood and pulled the jacket off, Suzanne struggled to do the same but was hindered by her sore body and the couch. Sam pulled the silk undershirt over her head, she felt the cool air over her skin and longed to warm herself in the embrace of Suzanne as she finally struggled from her silk shirt. Sam was back in her lap, knees against the back of the sofa with her shins brushing against the cloth of her own and Suzanne's pants. She wished for them to be closer, void of all clothes with nothing but skin between them. She waited.

She was there, kissed against their lips, Sam broke off and worked her way along Suzanne's jaw, sucking on the soft and white skin. She worked her way down to the shoulder and went back to her lips, Sam was in her element. She had waited for something like this, something she had occasionally dreamed about when sleepless. She pushed her half naked body against Suzanne's chest, she could feel the skin of their breasts just barely penetrating the cloth of their bras. She was flung over by Suzanne and her still strong arms, her legs hung from the side of the bed as Suzanne straddled her chest and held the kiss, her hands searching about for a good place. They trailed down her side, along her ribs and to her tits, rubbing them in slow circles until Sam broke a kiss to undo her bra and fling it aside. Suzanne went down, a soft hum on her lips as she took the tit in hand and sucked on it. Sam threw her head back as waves of sensation blew through her mind. She was blinded as Suzanne worked her tongue about it, sucking it and slowly massaging the other. Sam couldn't do a thing, her hands were running through her hair as she tried to comprehend what it was going on.

She sat up and lifted Suzanne's head to her own, she could feel sweat on their bodies, she kissed her and drew her up. She helped her to the double bed that had been left in the room originally for Commander Kel'chak, once Suzanne at on the edge they finished undressing. They didn't delay in trying to make it sexy, Sam quickly pulled away her First Officer's pants, boots, socks, and panties away before she did away with her own. She gazed now at the finely sized bust, perfect as she climbed over Suzanne's body and ravished her. She trailed the kisses across her chest, she took hold of the nipple with her mouth and sucked it, feeling Suzanne squirm under her as she sucked one and rubbed the other. Suzanne pushed her over and began to do the same, yet better, she was there with her tongue working hard, her hand not on her right tit tracing circles on Sam's thigh, working it's way up and down until she began to need her somewhere other than on her chest. She grabbed her hand and guided it slowly over her skin and to her wet core. She started rubbing, ever so gently before she suddenly plunged three fingers into her.

Sam jerked up and cried out she couldn't breath, they were together for something, she couldn't think either. She was positive those weren't her hands caressing herself, she was holding her hair. She didn't know how long she lasted but the world exploded in her orgasm. She still couldn't think when Suzanne plopped down beside her wrapped her warm arms around her. She nestled her head close by.

"I love you Captain."

Something came back, that was her First Officer. "I love you too, Suzanne."

They slept there for hours, neither woke until instinct kicked in after eight hours of sleep, then they still had time so they went on for some more until reveille.


	14. The Great Arc: Pilot Part Twelve

Here it is! the last chapter, I hope you enjoy and _**PLEASE**_ leave a review in once you finish reading!

Little bit of an emotional moment between T'Kira and Reddy, please enjoy.

 **Part 12: Emotions (Conclusion)**

An hour into official command and Reddy was regretting it. Already had Elisa bailed out and claimed that she was his Tactical Officer and had the duty of filling out forms for her department, not the Command stations. That left T'Kira to help him, who accepted the position of Second Officer without a second thought and was soon in his quarters signing papers. Well, they weren't his quarter, formerly Captain Taggerts, they were the Captain's and Taggert hadn't even looked at them before he died. Unlike _Chillingsworth_ , _Walker's_ quarters were either slightly bigger, or held two or more officers. The quarters on his old ship were about the size of a bathroom in the Picard Building at the Academy, here he had two separate rooms, one with a table and plenty of seating adjacent to his bedroom and refresher. The table turned out to be the right place to sit and fill out forms.

T'Kira wasn't like most Vulcan, in many ways. For one, her skin was darker, signature of obvious tanning, and her voice was softer and she had shown more emotion than most. She seemed soft, yet now she had the air of the regular Vulcan, and even sometimes understanding, he had seen this when she had comforted T'Vrell, after. . .

Reddy had too much to do, he had to be out of the system by noon tomorrow and he had a crew of a hundred and eight to run a ship that actually needed more than two hundred, he'd have to transport another seven offship due to emotional instability, along with ten who sustained critical wounds and would be out of action for several months. Quinn had contacted him and told him that he'd get at least fifty enlisted crew to replace his lost officers, but he still had to sign the forms and submit them to make the exchange legal. They had been back aboard the ship around 1800 (6:00 PM) and had been working ever since then, signing form after form concerning the new troops, materials to replicate new hull pieces while underway, as well as other engine parts and equipment destroyed in the battle.

Sometime around 2100 Reddy sat back and sighed. He had worked through almost a hundred different forms and had signed his name on them more than once. All the work was tiring and hurting his hand and he was already growing tired. He had been up too early that morning and had felt his eyes heavy with fatigue before they had even gone into Admiral Quinn's office. He sat and looked across the table at T'Kira, ever so busy and unwilling to admit her own, even as it showed under her eyes.

Reddy stood and stretched, the silk shirt that was issued to go under the Academy Uniform, which actually was one piece of the uniform that had to be paid for, was the only thing on his upper body—he had borrowed a jacket from a Andorian when he went to the Quinn's office—and he felt the cool air of his quarters across his skin. Surprisingly, their heaters still worked but were down to twenty-percent efficiency, most of the remaining power had been transferred to keep the sickbay warm, everyone else had to suck it pretty much.

He didn't know why, but he realized that it would be a cold night, and T'Kira wasn't likely to stop until she dropped out on the table. He looked at her skinny body and let his imagination run wild, he moved around the table and stood behind her. She was too busy at the work to notice him, shifting through the remaining four inch stack of papers that would be fed through a machine to put them in digital format, until he came in close, leaned over, and wrapped his arms under hers and held them across her ribcage under her breasts. She hardly moved, suddenly stilled. Reddy brought his head down close to her as she spoke.

"Captain? I don't think you're allowed to do that." She said, her voice shook slightly.

Reddy whispered in her ear. "It's cold T'Kira, and you are tired, come with me."

She didn't want to move. "Captain—"

Reddy stopped her by trailing a string of kisses down her cheek and neck. She stood and came with him. He guided her to the bed and they stripped down to their undergarments and climbed into the bed. They didn't do much besides that, the spoon against each other and Reddy wrapped his arms about her stomach again and nestled his head against her shoulder, they lay there with the sheets pulled all the way up and the warmth of their bodies trapped beneath. They had drifted off to sleep in a matter of minutes.

 **(Conclusion)**

As for those of you who have played or watched tutorials of Star Trek Online, you will realize that I've changed a lot of details and characters. I will explain this through the fact that Star Trek Online is geared for constant and intriguing gameplay, it's only given dates so far are the graduation date (2409) and another date in some other mission, well after you've made it to Vice Admiral, as 2410. This is bad and horrible, it means you pretty much go from Cadet to Admiral in twelve months, which of course isn't true, and has all kinds of other incongruities in story line. I do admit that a captain could fight Klingons, Gorn, Orions, kill the Undying, blah blah blah, and live to see the light. But not inside of a single year. So I took the liberty of removing the Borg from this pilot and simply sending them home.

I'll now tell you of my new stage for this story. I'm taking them along a roughly five-six year course between the time they start as Lieutenants and eventually become Captains and admirals. The first and second year will mainly concern the Klingon-Gorn-Orion conflict outlined in the first story arc of the game, the third will include the conflict on Nimbus and probably something to do with the Devidians. The fourth and fifth and sixth will concern Romulans and Cardassians. It is a plan that will pursue the story from _more_ _than_ _one_ _viewpoint_. I know that now I will definitely include the characters Morris, T'Vrell, maybe Triss, and at one point Suzanne will be separated and given her own command. I am extremely excited to see you, the readers, giving me cool character sketches and advice on different missions, I really hope to come up with some cool Main and Secondary characters you created and tell me who should take each mission.

I am waiting for my first review, we finally got a hundred views! And am excited to hear what y'all have to say about following episode. (P.S. Do you want me to make separate stories or just add unto this story? Please let me know quickly!)


	15. Episode 1: Heroes of Vega Colony

So for some time I believe I'll post my episodes in the original story so this story is more easily accessed and of course gets more views. In this episode, which is to continue very soon, which means Monday due to commitments, Reddy has...you know...stuff! We'll cover that other half of the game tutorial as they finish their training cruise and prove themselves finally. Enjoy!

The Great Arc: Episode 1

Heroes of Vega

(Stardate 86008.67)

T'Kira drew herself from the bed and slowly stretched her long and slender, and partially clothed, frame in the cool of Acting Lieutenant Jacques Patrick Reddy's quarters. Her own quarters had not only been damaged in the attack, they were easily fixed, but the heating systems in the area were completely shot compared to this section of quarters, which were functioning enough to prevent ice from condensing in a hot shower. So for the four days of their current training cruise she had started the nights with Reddy's arms wrapped tightly around her for however long in the night before he turned away. She looked back from where she sat on the edge and looked at his thin profile that was honed to sleep in as little space as possible, for T'Kira it came naturally, yet in the evenings when the senior staff dined together in the mess they had been told of the years Reddy had spent aboard a cargo ship on the Pacific, with a bed hardly big enough for a preteen. Sometimes she tried to form emotion and pity him, yet whatever emotion she had was uncontrollable, it would run wild with some passion, or it would curl up inside and make her cry into her pillow, it was beginning to worry her, which wasn't the nature of a true Vulcan. She didn't like it, she was showing emotion and it wasn't in her blood, she was pure Vulcan, generations upon generations of blood and monks, she was the first of her family to join Starfleet and not become a monk. Yet she hadn't predicted this, where she had imagined eating, sleeping, performing her duties all logically and sound, yet she had run to the quarters of the man that had pulled her into a bed just to spoon and keep warm. And still for some reason she slept with her CO and let him hold her tight in the night until dawn.

T'Kira tried her best to banish the thoughts and stood to dress. The heaters were able to keep most room in this part of the ship between 48 and 52 degrees Fahrenheit, it was on the lower end in the much larger expanse of Reddy's quarters. T'Kira hugged her body covered only in the Starfleet standard issued bra and panties, and strode across to where she had neatly stacked her clothes on Reddy's dresser. There came a low moan from the bed as Reddy felt the cold air from where T'Kira's movement had removed covers from around him. He rolled over, pulling the covers up and staring through tired eyes at her as she began to dress.

"You needn't get up so early." He said in his Scottish accent slurred by the hour.

T'Kira had pulled the baggy silk undershirt on and was taking hold of her pants, she looked at the man as her tried to keep warm under the covers. "We shouldn't be doing this, I'll arrange to sleep in a different room tonight." She began to unbuckle the pants as Reddy threw his covers back and climbed from the bed.

Reddy came up behind her and took her shoulders, planting his lips against the base of her neck, pushing the collar of the silk shirt aside to move down a little way. "If we shouldn't do it, then why have you slept with me for four straight days?"

His question was logical, yet there was no logical answer to be provided. T'Kira turned and looked into his eyes. "Captain," she said very formally, "we really shouldn't sleep together, even if we don't fornicate, it just isn't right for a junior officer to sleep with her commanding officer." She tried to turn away but Reddy's hands were heavy on her shoulder.

He drew her in and planted a kiss on her lips. He drew back. "It isn't right T'Kira, but nothing is in Starfleet these days, if I threw a rock in a room full of Flag Officers, I'd hit someone who was involved in a scandal, a con, or something illegal or in the low end of the gray scale." He kept their eyes on each other. "We've been beaten, we've got a ship with heaters that don't work, and it's only by luck that I've got someone to sleep beside."

T'Kira was taken aback. "Lucky?" She said testily.

Reddy smiled, a sweet smile that was hardly seen anywhere except in the most quiet confines of his mind. "That right there," he brought one hand up pointing straight at her, "is what prooves to me that you aren't a hard nose like T'Vrell and all the other Vulcan's I have met."

T'Kira could feel something inside of her. She began to feel a downward feeling, the thing that made her cry at night and be left powerless. Tears began to form as she tried to hold them back and keep Reddy away, he came in again and held her close to his chest. She breathed raggedly and closed her eyes against his bare body, tears fell against him as he comforted her. He pulled her over to the bed and sat her on the end.

T'Kira tried to compose herself. "Patty, I just . . . I just don't know what to do. I feel all these emotions, I can't control them."

Reddy knelt and looked up into her eyes. "It's because you won't embrace them, give in to them, accept that there is more to life that being emotionless and simply logical." He pushed her onto her back and climbed unto the bed. They slid to the top of the bed and lay on their sides facing each other. Reddy took hold her and pulled her in, their legs tangling and their breath warm against each skin, for once they stared softly at each other and he could see worry in her deep and brown eyes. "You can try to be human." He pulled her in and kissed her, feeling the silk against his chest.

T'Kira cried again and hid her head against him, closing her eyes and trying to banish the pain in sleep. It was two hours before he was scheduled on the bridge, he would sleep with her.

 **Two hours later.**

Every morning for the first four days of their Training Cruise, Jacques Patrick Reddy had started a tour of his ship around 0600 hours and taken around thirty minutes to do it, combining it with light physical training and usually getting back to his quarters in time to do a quick straightening and wash up to be on the bridge by 0645. This was his routine, and he always started his run by heading aft to the Engine Room and the office that Sarah Triss used as her post for Damage Control. He'd usually find her and the Bolian Engineering Officer Zarva either chatting or arguing about DC teams and priorities. Both Zarva and Sarah were hard workers, Zarva got on one project and finished it well in a moderate time. Triss was a task switcher, constantly jumping from one job to another to the point she made little progress in each but still managed to make a large amount of progress over however long her stamina lasted. Both commonly started their work at midnight and worked together to finish their jobs until they crashed twelve hours later and slept until they had enough energy to keep going. They worked well together, Triss having the administration and ability to organize teams while Zarva had put much time into the _Miranda-_ class light cruiser's systems and technology, one would organize and prioritize while the other helped teams and focused on repairing damage.

Currently the ship was still beat, her engines were functioning at a moderate level again, maximum at Warp Factor 5 for a few hours and Full Impulse power was restored for the power they were able to pump into the engines without blowing too many powercells, yet they still had a number areas in the outermost rings of the hull that were depressurized and inaccessible. All their problems, weapons and shields included, were amounted atop the heaters which were yet to be fixed after four days.

"For some reason, the bloody heaters are fixed, but they won't pump air or anything into the different areas of the ship, we'll probably have to round up some midgets and clear vents and try to find the problem." Triss was her usual hard spoken Scottish self in the mornings while Zarva would stand behind her and tend to wince at certain words and phrases, especially the mention of midgets since Zarva was only 5'3'' compared to the taller Scottswoman.

Reddy's route took him directly from the engineering spaced and to the Security Offices. Here he'd find Rebecca Haymore and T'Kira both going over security footage and dissecting while another officer deployed teams on repair parties duties and other qualified jobs. He'd speak with them for a considerably shorter time, he would hear much more in the evening over dinner or when T'Kira came into his quarters, and left quickly for Operations and the Sick Bay. He'd check up on the wounded and talk to O'Konnel, as much as he disliked her for her very rebellious attitude, about them and try his best to socialize before he went on to the Sciences. Things were even harder there as he had to tried small talk with the southerner Bernhard Morris.

Bernhard was a good man, good at picking a single consistency in a field of static and finding the most well hidden smuggler ship. The man was better at anything that concerned a sensor sweep or even communications, his jobs for the last days had involved constant testing of they sensors and comms and even the finding of a smuggler ship two days ago. They had been lucky he had waited until they were as close as they were or it would have escaped and they'd have wasted their time. Now they had something positive under their belt to counteract getting pounced by Captain Jurlek and getting torn to shreds by a fleet of dilapidated _B'rels_! Maybe they would eventually get _Walker_ back to one hundred percent and make a new life other than the one that started under the command of Captain Taggert.

Bernhard however, was a puzzle, he acted as if he was happy to be back on the crew, even if he was kicked off the bridge for the duration of the cruise, yet he was awkward around his CO and tried his best to do whatever he could to avoid conversation in a formal sense. Reddy never hung around long, he was soon quickly on his way back to his quarters, stopping now and then to talk with repair parties before he was back in his quarters. He'd bathe and clean his space and be on the bridge with the same thought on his mind each day.

Reddy wasn't of this crew, in actual terms Elisa Flores was supposed to be captain yet she had, for some reason unknown to Reddy, written a letter to go with the combat report that said she was fine with Reddy as her command; it soon became apparent because Elisa had no intention of helping with command, she preferred a more slack life as a tactical officer who had a say. As his First Officer she was supposed to assist in the administrative duties given to the captain, yet due to her lacking administrative abilities, which had shown brightly on her records, she had pushed the job off on T'Kira and asked simply to be his Number One and Tactical Officer. He had accepted.

It was on the third day that Reddy had finally opened a file on each of Captain Taggert's surviving senior staff and read up on his crew. It turned out the crew had two major things in common: good grades and blemishes on their records. Elisa, Razkii, Potter, and even Morris all had a small dot where they had been caught sopping drunk, pants down, or bullying someone. Their grades were the main thing that was nice to the eyes, not one below eighty, yet some reports said these cadets were scum and unable to be officers, yet further research into Captain Taggert, something Reddy was entitled to as his successor, saw that he preferred grades over attitude. It may have never occurred to the man that cheating was common among officers lacking discipline and improving grades.

All in all, Reddy could see something in his new command, something that he liked. Each person was closer now, almost close as lovers, each of the one hundred and eight officers and enlisted who had survived January 1 knew that that one had been through hell like the rest of them. Now they knew, no matter what official records said, they were fighting ready, they had more experience than the Berlin graduates who replaced their fallen comrades, they had done _something_ and weren't cadets. Even if their collars said it.


	16. Episode 1: Part 2

Been awhile, not too long but long enough, so here is the next small part of the story, hope you enjoy and give me some nice positive feedback!

(Stardate 86091.237)

" **Captain's log, Stardate 86091.237: After the completion of our training cruise at the farthest point of our voyage, I have ordered a complete recalculation of our course and ordered us straight home to Earth Spacedock. All is well and we made contact with our sister two days ago and briefly our senior officers shared a toast before** ** _Chillingsworth_** **, who was already on her first assignment to begin routine maintenance on the Traelus System satellites, continued on her journey while we headed home. I have put in a request to Rear Admiral Jorel Quinn for a three day refit for my ship and leave for my crew, it is common for such to happen to a new crew yet Lt. Commander O'Connell assured me that her crew was not given shore leave but was instead given a two day stand down and free roam of Earth Spacedock while their ship was repaired. I was intending to push the ship hard to get there by the end of tomorrow but I have been informed by my Engineering Officer, Miss Zarva, that we will need a very hard and possibly long overhaul to get our warp engines back up to Warp 5.5 for any period of time without frying them. We remain resilient in our task of keeping this ship together and continuing on our journey home."**

Reddy had never been comfortable with doing his daily logs out loud and asked that he be given a piece of paper and a pen to write his brief reports and then have the aide responsible for his log feed it into the computers, which were capable of registering ten billion different types of hand writing, and save him time and the pain of feeling like an idiot as he spoke into a recorder.

He finished the report with his own signature and handed it to the Operation Ensign, they were all technically full ensigns now that they had completed their training cruise and were yet to be told otherwise. Speaking of the cruise, it had gone splendedly, they had traversed most of the Federation around the Vulcan sector, even managing to nip down to Drozona and catch another smuggling operation, and had stopped in several places and ferried VIPs and some reinforcements to Deep Space K-7 when they had laid up at Starbase 24 for a short time. The big thing was the bond he had begun to form with his bridge crew.

Tekz, he quickly learned, was a quick witted and funny fellow with a great sense of humor and a thing for puns, not only was he fine with being called "Lizard Man", he highly liked the term the humans aboard, calling him "Tex". The name had stuck in the first week and soon he was only called Tekz when he was formally given orders. Potter was crazy, not to surprising after how she acted after the events of January 1, and wasn't likely to change. T'Vrell was a Vulcan who was softer spoken than she had been at the Academy, when she looked at you now, you could see frustration, fear, pain and sadness all in her eyes; she was still shy to a touch and didn't prefer anything to do with sleep or physical contact. Elisa was her Michigan self, lazy, drunken when not on duty, but a hell of a Tactical Officer who could put plot an interception course to within two kilometers and even aim a phaser down to half a meter, she knew her stuff and wasn't afraid to show it. The other crew were just as interesting, Reddy learned how diverse they were in the evenings when his officers dined together before the dogwatches, Arripak hated business but was a devil at chess, Sakup was like a mother or caring girlfriend to anyone she met and got to know, Morris was extremely southern and one of the few without a drinking or cheating blemish on his record—to him the ability to read sensors and listen through static fields came natural. Zarva and Triss were best friends now, they still argued, and had managed to overcome even the problems with the secondary shaft to the bridge, and finally T'Kira had lost almost half of her Vulcan personality. She acted like a human now—she only slept next to and wouldn't do any deeds with Reddy—and was casting most of her deduction and purely logical thinking away. She spent more time partaking in the entertaining and stupendous conversations most Vulcans found trying an illogical, sometimes even managing to tell a joke with a fairly effective punchline.

The crew was effective as well, all now had respect for their captain and cared for each other, except O'Konnell who was in it for the money and retirement, and they were good at a job. Even on a bad day they still managed 94% efficiency on combat stations. And today was a good day.

Morris was always bent over his panel or sitting back half asleep—he had been allowed back onto the bridge after he successfully caught a freighter that had retrofit itself with a Klingon cloaking device—until his custom tuned sensor alarms informed him of something. These alerts were specially tuned to distress signals and dead zones, it was very effective and had succeeded in putting four smugglers bagged in their first weeks of voyage.

As she always did at 0800, Elisa walked lazily unto the bridge and bid the crew good morning, she'd take cup of something hot from the replicator that had been installed at the rear of bridge. She then relieved the nighttime Tactical Officer (TACO) and set the automated alert to her communicator and would sit in the triple seats in front of her station, leaning lazily in the chair to Pat's right.

"Good morning to you too, Captain." She yawned when he didn't speak. "Glad you're so enthusiastic about your crew on the bridge."

Reddy had had a bad morning, his message sent several days ago had been replied to simple as " _MESSAGE RECIEVED._ " with no saying whether his request was confirmed or denied. He hadn't been in good humor for at least ten hours. "I'll be enthusiastic the day you're on the bridge when you're supposed to be, that's at 0630 to relieve Mister Pilnulkal so that he can take a watch to rest."

Elisa feigned being taken aback. "Oh I'm sorry master, we all serve you master, do your bidding master." her voice suddenly changed from her monster voice to a distasteful Scottish impersonation. "Ah but are we? Ye're just an Ensign like us, noaw, how aboot you be on time to the bridge." they had been docked at K-7 when Reddy had informed that his cruise was over, yet he had been drawn aside by the station commander who had informed him that he could no longer hold the title of Acting Lieutenant, instead he was simply an Ensign now, and Elisa wouldn't let him get away with having authority over her.

"Elisa, you keep that up, I'll—"

"You'll what?" Elisa must have been hung over or something for she suddenly winced as she raised her voice.

Reddy was about to speak when Morris called out. "I hate to break up the married couple," he referred to anyone arguing as a type of relationship, "but I have something."

Reddy was up and by his side quickly, Tex and Elisa came up slower, Reddy leaned over Bernhard's shoulder and stared at the screen. "What is it?" he asked.

Morris adjusted his sensors and focused the image. "That," he said. "is a Klingon D7 cruiser."

"What's it up too Bernie?" Tex asked.

"She's derelict, floating in a zone of space that is almost impossible for me to read," He gave a wicked grin, "looks a lot like what happened back on the First." January 1 was now referred to among the crew as the First.

Reddy looked about his officers, T'Kira was scheduled to be on the bridge any minute now, thence they could make a decision on whether to go in or not. There she was, walking unto the bridge, PADD in hand with a questioning eye at the group forming around Bernhard's station.

"Any other important information Bernie?" he asked the southerner.

Bernhard swung his chair about and looked up at Reddy. "I've recently read the logs of a group of mercenaries who have been managing to operate inside Federation space, barely in regulations that is, and they've been mapping the primary locations of Klingon attacks and sightings. They use events like ours and the 2407 class to try and get some information on where and when using a fleet of old ships with very limited weapons. That's beside the point anyways." the primary staff gathered around Bernhard as he stood and continued. "They have mapped two dozen locations and had even determined that Klingon attacks were likely where we were going on the First, even before we went there, yet the military will not confirm their intelligence."

"Your point, Bernie." Elisa was waiting for him to cut to the chase.

"My point is," he gave an annoyed look. "that they haven't marked this area, but have about a dozen around it and the Pollux system. I think this evidence is stating that they've set up a brand new poaching zone, and this one is along a highly traveled route."

"So we've got a jump on them?" Asked Tex, his voice different from his expressionless Saurian face.

"Indeed, we won't exactly have a 'jump' as you say, but we know that this is a place for them and can possibly coax a number of them out."

It was logical, not even and insane Klingon would order high quality ships into an area he had not before poached.

"I feel like it's time we do more than cut off the head of the snake." Arripak said, in the days of the cruise he was found to be very warlike and was always the first to suggest violence.

"Let's not be too hasty, Arri," spoke T'Vrell "We must look and realize that there is a 51.64 percent chance that Kadek is there with a ship and a sizable force. He may even be attempting to draw us in and use similar tactics as on the First."

Reddy turned his head and gave a inquiry as to why she thought so, and who Kadek was involved. "Possibilities, Captain. If Kadek was dead, we would not gave had any of the chances we did in the past, Intelligence stated that Kadek was concerned as to being a madman, so J'mpok ordered him into Federation space to harass and left him there with an ancient fleet of B'rels and D7s. It is possible that if Kadek was to die, the battle hardened captains and crews in Federation space would be pulled away and put on the Klingon front line where they could do more damage and help their war cause." T'Vrell looked about the gathering as she spoke. "It is highly likely that Kadek, possibly against his will, was beamed off his ship and possibly either has command, or is retaking it."

"Don't ya think a Klingon like him would lose it though?" said Potter. "I mean, these guys think losing a ship, or being questioned on a matter is dishonoring him. Don't you think he is either all mad or been stabbed yet? I'm pretty sure there is a Klingon on every ship of his who doesn't like him, hell, I bet if a _Gorn_ killed him he would get the man's place."

"Indeed, yet Kadek was most likely beamed aboard by a loyal captain and crew, he would have been kept safe until the time came for him to take command." T'Kira cut in.

"The point is, ladies and gentlemen, this is an ambush waiting to happen, I think we should take the advantage and spring it." Reddy brought attention back to the matter at hand. "Now I need a majority vote."

"I concur." Elisa, being First Officer, had the right to vote first.

"I as well." said T'Kira.

The voting went on, in the end no one had voted not to, they had voiced opinions on whether or not they could or should go, but they all voted yes—the vote did not include the Head of Engineering, but she had always hated being included in big decisions and had asked that Arripak vote for her. The group dispersed and went back to their stations, T'Kira would go and inform Haymore and have the ship's security detachment armed with phasers and have a detail sent to the bridge, as well as some weapons, each bridge station was calling in to their different section and soon the ship was ready for red alert.

Reddy took his seat and pulled himself together for the string of commands. He paused for several seconds and formed the string of commands in his mind. "Miss Flores!" He called. "Yellow Alert, prepare for combat."

"Yes sir!" she responded and sounded Yellow Alert.

"Miss Potter, lay in a course for our target for Pollux system and our target."

"Aye sir." the stars streaming past shifted as they banked over and headed towards the Pollux system.

For a short moment, as he sat and thought of how long ago the First was, and realized how he remembered each detail. Details like Razkii and the bloody walls of Sickbay, like the way a B'rel exploded when hit just right by a torpedo. All if it was still plain as day. As T'Vrell reported the different departments ready for combat, and that the engagement message had been sent to the nearest starbase, Reddy's mind somehow found it's way to Shakespeare.

As Potter counted down the time until they dropped from warp, Reddy quoted Henry the Fifth. "Once more unto breach, dear friends, once more." They were ten seconds out.


	17. Episode 1: Part 3

**Once again, enjoy and let me know what you think!**

 **Part 3**

The stars streaking past the viewscreen and the blue tendrils of Warp faded as a wide belt of asteroids and the outer planets of the Pollux System. Due to advanced technology, where the planets would have been mere specks on the main viewscreen, they could be seen as much larger than they really were at this distance. The tactical station, normally behind the Captain's chair on the raised platform, had been moved down in front at the two panels directly in front of triple chairs. Flores was checking her panel which was being fed data through several others, including Bernhard's sensor station, and appeared to get nothing.

"Nothing on sensors, not even particle clouds or the possible cloaked ships." She said, sounding let down.

"What about that D7?" Reddy asked. The main viewscreen changed and the picture came up of a D7, old and torn from battle scars, floating derelict in the asteroid field. "Any more information?"

"None, nothing, and no one." Elisa said with resignation in her voice.

"If I may?" Tex swung his chair about and caught the captain's eye. Reddy nodded and Tex stood. "Sir, I've studied reports and by determination, me and several other tactical officers believe that the Klingons are waiting for us to let our guard down. The reason we were jumped so easily on the First was because they knew we were coming, we were trying to get to the _Break Even_ and save her, what we didn't know was that there was a whole group of Klingons waiting for us. Since we suddenly altered course and drove in here they most likely didn't have time to set up an ambush against us, especially with their craft against ours at full readiness."

"Do you have a suggestion Ensign?" Reddy inquired.

"Yes sir, you see, through studying other reports, I determined that they also tended to attack when a ship let it's guard down before it went to Warp, especially on ships that had been badly damaged." Tex went on.

"Your point Ensign?" Asked Elisa.

"We need to somehow simulate that we are about to jump away and keep our shields down on low power, then when they uncloak to attack we dump all the power back into shields and give 'em hell." He finished.

"Very good, Mister Tekz, I'll take that under consideration." Reddy had a side panel on his chair that flipped down, it held all his ability to contact different departments of his ship. He keyed in to talk to engineering. "Bridge to Engineering, Captain here." before long came Zarva's voice.

"Zarva here, Captain." she said, her voice was always a little strained and twitchy, it conveyed her well with it's sound of maturity and cool composure, even if she was only twenty-three. Zarva was a very calm person who showed mainly lack of interest in anything besides engineering subjects.

"Zarva, I need to know if you can feign something for me." Reddy asked, he swore he could see a smile on Tekz's face from where he sat. "What I need you to do is hide our shield signature behind the Warp drive powering up, we need to make the Klingons think that we are about to jump away, then when they uncloak to attack us we bring the shields up and fight back."

There was silence for several seconds on the other end, Zarva let it go for too long so when she started back it was awkward. "So," she drew the word out. "We can try that, I need about five minutes to pull a team together and figure out."

"You have three, Ensign." Reddy closed the channel. "Helm, steady as she goes, take us through the belt and make it look like we don't suspect."

"Aye sir." Potter took them in rapidly, bringing forth the idea that they were trying to rescue whoever was in the D7.

After about three minutes, they were a few kilometers out from the cruiser, Reddy's engineering comm pinged and he opened the channel. "Reddy here."

"Zarva, captain, I've got the idea together."

"Go ahead."

"We can't exactly _fake_ our warp engines powering up, that's a fact, but we can power them up, and then as soon as we get jumped I can dump all that spare power back into the shields." She said, her voice flat.

"I sense a catch coming on, Zarva."

"Such a move could quite frankly rip our deflectors up, metaphorically. We would have all the warp energy stored in our deflectors and could very well overload them unless they are drained enough before."

"What about sending some of the excess to our weapons? Or engines?"

"Out of the question, trying to separate the power into different places is just as, if not more, dangerous as channeling it to one. Either way, it's a risk that can end one of two ways."

"Death to us, or death to our enemies." Reddy pondered.

"Yes sir." Zarva waited for orders.

Reddy thought for several long seconds, he could feel the eyes of the stations behind him cutting into his back. "Do you have a percentage Zarva?"

"Sir, this isn't a thing that we do percentages on, this is a thing that is imminent."

Reddy looked down at his lap and cursed himself for his idiocy. "Do it, Bridge out."

Elisa moved back to her station behind Reddy and worked there. They were approaching the D7 now. "Helm, full stop." The imaged stopped growing as they hovered less than a kilometer away. "Scanners online, scan target for energy and life signatures."

There was a series of bleeps and other electronic sounds as the main scanners swept the derelict cruiser. Elisa whispered under her breath then looked up. "I'm picking up traces of Gamma radiation sir, that and an amount of heavy damage from plasma weapons. And these readings are not fake, they are most definitely real, I'm surprised there is something left to look at."

"Romulans?" Reddy had studied at the academy that Romulans had a liking for plasma technology.

"I'm not sure sir." Elisa responded to a loud beep on her panel. "Engineering signals ready sir."

Reddy banished the thought of what happened to the poor D7 and it's crew, and went back to his goal of killing Klingons. "Helm, take us up into position to leave the system."

The D7 disappeared from the screen as the ship went up and came above the asteroid belt. They pivoted until all they saw was empty space. "Course sir?" Potter asked.

"Sol system Miss Potter." Reddy kept an eye out, waiting and watching while the warp drive warmed up and prepared to make the jump.

"Ready for Warp sir." Potter's hand was paused over the jump button, which was right next to the button that would swap power over to the shields.

"Standby, channels?" He looked at T'Vrell.

"Channels clear, Captain." she responded.

He looked back at the screen, he swore. "They've got be watching dammit! They've got to be waiting for us, why don't they bloody attack!"

Suddenly Morris called out. "Contact! Enemy ships on our aft!"

"Red Alert! Shields maximum!" The bridge went red and the power conduits hummed as the power shifted through it. "Helm, hard about, phasers to bear!"

 _Walker_ heeled over as her shields came up and five old Bird-of-preys bore down on her. Bright disruptor bolts flew from their cannons and pounded the shields with deadly precision and power. _Walker_ responded with her own fury, her six phaser banks, built to swing 200 degrees about, opened and targeted the lead ship. Despite their age and experience, the _Walker's_ gunners had no problem hitting a target at five kilometers; the lead ship, strangely a Koloth, shook under the fire of her five banks (three forward, two aft) and suddenly peeled away in a sharp bank. The others continued on, bearing furiously down, torpedoes leaped from their single tubes and crashed against _Walker's_ shields.

"Damage report!" Reddy yelled.

"Nothing critical sir, simply a few dents along structural frames."

"Helm, further about, torpedoes fire as soon as they bare."

 _Walker_ came about farther, the remaining B'rels had closed their formation up, flying in a schwarm at closing into three kilometers. The phasers pulsed, focusing on the leader; his shields were suddenly down and a hot stream of energy cut through his starboard engine. The ship bucked and the engine exploded, collapsing in the entire side of the ship and enveloping it in a ball of fire. A massive explosion blinded the bridge crew as the warp core detonated.

 _Walker_ came about just in time to squeeze off a single torpedo into the front of the new leader. They continued to come about, phasers alive as they caught the ships in a wide turn. The ships had split as even as they could, one swinging to the left and two to the right. With _Walker_ swinging right on an opposite course she was able to bear all her guns for a short moment, long enough to pierce the shield and cut a hole in the B'rel's wing. She faltered, trying to pull away but the time it took to reverse her turn was too long, a torpedo impacted at the base of her neck and detonated the fuel reserve. The second group was turning quickly, already they were lined up to strafe along _Walker's_ aft, they swept in, cannons firing at a rate that would melt their barrels if kept for much longer, splitting away to each side and running to get away. _Walker_ focused to the port, as the attacker tried to cloak and escape, a white beam cut the ship at the base of the neck, as the cruiser swung to her starboard after the second ship, her previous target was torn in two around the neck, she floated free as escape pods fled with all haste.

 _Walker_ bore down on the final ship; they went head on, the B'rel's captain realized that he had no hope of escape, he could only either try to survive, or take _Walker_ with him. They bore together closing the seven kilometers in a duel of who would drop the others shield first. _Walker_ won.

The B'rel lost the battle less than two kilometers away, her shield dropped and three torpedoes impacted her on a wing, engineering, and finally destroying the neck. She exploded and _Walker_ shook from the blast, hot metal pounded the shields and the heat scarred the paint of the forward hull.

The fire was soon clear.

"Damage report!" Reddy stood and looked at the science station.

T'Vrell touched her ear and listened, checking her own panels at the same time. "Minimum sir, couple people knocked off their feet and hit their heads, as well as some exterior damage, nothing critical. Our shields are also at eighty-five percent and climbing." her head swung back to her panel, she worked at it quickly for several moments. Reddy moved closer and inquired. "I'm receiving a Starfleet distress call sir, USS _Khitomer_ sir."

"Play it for me." Reddy moved around behind the Vulcan and leaned behind her.

T'Vrell patched it unto the bridge speakers and upped the volume. " _This is the United Space Ship_ Khitomer _, we are requesting assistance at Pollux four. Repeat, we have lost power and cannot move, this is United Space Ship_ Khitomer _, requesting assistance at Pollux four._ " the message was automated, the voice that of a EMH rather than the captain.

"Number One, thoughts?" Reddy looked at Elisa, who had come up in front of the station and was looking over the edge.

Elisa thought for a moment. "I think I read that _Khitomer_ was doing some geological surveys in this system two days ago, it makes sense she'd still be here, even with the crew and class of ship she is."

Reddy thoughts strayed for a second, what class was _Khitomer_? He brought them back. "Next actions?"

"I advise that we approach her with caution, especially with that transmission being broadcasted on the mains with no scramble. I feel that there is a chance that this is an ambush, and a chance that _Khitomer_ is in danger." T'Vrell stated, somewhat cutting Elisa off; Elisa, however, agreed and nodded in acceptance of the Vulcan's statement.

Reddy looked across the rea'ard platform at Bernhard at his sensor station. "Sensors?"

"Negative, sir. That newer Bird-of-prey cloaked and disappeared." He swung his chair around and faced his captain. "If we're going to be moving off, I'd suggest we do it soon before anyone else comes for us." Bernhard drawled out in his heavy southern accent.

Reddy nodded. "Very well, helm, time to Pollux IV orbit on Impulse?"

Potter did some calculation. "Twenty to thirty minutes at full impulse, and that's going to really strain the engines."

"Warp?"

"It will be tricky, but I can possibly plot a short jump at Warp 1, we'll be there in a few minutes." She spoke, glancing back at Reddy as he moved to sit.

"Very well Miss Potter, lay in course for Pollux IV."

Potter worked at her panel for a few seconds, the request for a Warp course already handled down in the sciences station, she set the course in and reported. "Course laid in sir, ready for Warp."

"Warp Factor 1, Miss Potter."

Closeby, two dark eyes stared from their sockets around their burnt body. Kadek stared with pure hate and admiration for the one foe who had successfully hurt him. The one person who had dishonored him more than the miserable petaQ who beamed him away from his ship. The man had outsmarted him again, and now he was flaunting it by sitting around.

"Captain Kadek! The enemy is going to warp!" said bridge crewman.

"Is it another one of this veQ's fakes?"

"Negative sir, he has set a course for Pollux IV it seems." the man's voice wavered at Kadek's harsh tone. "We have also received a Starfleet distress call from that area, we were unable to completely receive it due to problems with cloak and out sensor dish."

"Irrelevent, it appears that there is a disabled Starfleet battleship awaiting the help of a simple cruiser." an evil grin split his face. "Set course! Best possible speed!"


	18. Episode 1: Part 4

**So some of my naval terms may get repetitive, but whatever. Enjoy this new chapter as we begin to close up the Tutorial part of the game arc. PS: I'm still waiting for my first review.**

 **Part 4**

"Three seconds sir."

True enough, the blue tendrils of Warp soon gave away to show the quickly growing shape of Pollux IV.

"Helm, one half Impulse power." the ship was coming up on the planet rapidly. "Sensors?"

Bernhard raised his voice for being bent over his controls and looking closely at their surroundings. "I have the _Khitomer_ on sensors sir, bearing ninety-five degrees off our course."

"Helm." Reddy needn't say more, Potter brought the ship around and aimed it at the figure of the _Khitomer_.

"Range, fifteen kilometers." Elisa said from her tactical station.

"Open a hailing channel."

"Hailing channel open sir. They are responding." T'vrell stated.

"Onscreen." The viewscreen shifted. "This is Acting Lieutenant Patrick Reddy, Commanding Officer USS _Walker_ , we received a distress signal from you, how may we be of assistance?"

The image of _Khitomer's_ command chair slowly focused and there sat a tall dark skinned man. "Ah, _Walker_ eh? Captain Jay Yim, USS _Khitomer_ , we didn't send any distress signal Lieutenant, can you have your communications officer check those readings."

Reddy's brow creased as he looked at Bernhard. The man swung around again. "Sir, it appears that the beacon is gone, I didn't even notice."

Reddy bit his lip and looked back at Captain Yim. "Pardon me sir, but I myself heard distress call, you stated that you had lost power and needed assistance."

Yim laughed. "Well, since you're here Mister Reddy, you can help us with out scans. We've run into several large patches of gamma radiation, it's been taking longer than expected. I'll have my comms officer transmit the locations to your sensor station."

Reddy felt his face turn red. "Yes sir." he signaled for the transmission to be cut off. He looked angrily at Bernhard. "Next time check twice Berntbutt." he sat heavily.

Bernhard muttered his own insults and told Potter where to go. They set off and were soon checking the points they were given, stopping at each point to do a ten minute scan that was not helping anyone's mood.

After some two hours of searching, Reddy had eaten a second breakfast and had managed to master the art of shooting rubber bands from his fingers before something interesting happened. Elisa, figuring that her station behind the command chair was more comfortable, perked at her station. Reddy, partially dozing at this point, was woken from his pleasant thoughts of his warm bed to Elisa's loud swear.

"Shit! Enemy ship inbound at high warp!" A second later she gasped. "It's right on top of us! The Borg!"

For a second it didn't register, then the crew was tossed from their seats as a plasma torpedo slammed against their forward decks. Tekz hauled himself upright and pressed the "Call to Fire Control" button. "Weapons at maximum! All phaser banks standby to fire!" His voice was high pitched. The crew was rocked aside by another blast.

"Shields to maximum, battlestations!" Reddy bellowed.

"Shields coming online now sir!" Potter leaned over and pressed the hail to all decks key. "All hands, battlestations, we are under attack. Repeat, all hands to battlestations!" the bridge turned red as the next impact was softened by their shields.

"Helm, full impulse power!" _Walker_ was old, her best impulse was around 30 when pressed, she leaped forward and slowly gained speed to avoid a barrage of unaimed missiles. She shook as some hit, but she was able to dodge a fine amount.

"Weapons online sir!" Tex informed.

"All weapons fire on the target, wherever it is." The screen was focused forward but soon changed to show the green and black oddly shaped ship nearby. It was larger than _Walker_ , fire poured from her body, most of it was torpedoes that were beginning to be intercepted by a prototype anti-torpedo cannon they had fitted on their aft. They had gone under the ship and we now coming about to bring her phaser banks to fire.

Reddy searched through his years at the academy, he thought and wondered what ship that was. "Bloody hell, what's that Flores?"

"Probe sir—" she was cut off by another hit.

The phasers opened up with a ferocity few had ever seen. Usually a phaser mount included three beam ports, each would fire in sequence and repeat at a rate of twenty repeats per minute, this was a very dangerous thing. Phasers ran their power through a group of conduits until they reached the 'contact point' and released the built up energy, after so many shots—on high class ship they could fire for about four minutes straight before the conduits began to overheat—the conduits became to hot and would tend to melt or short out. _Walker_ had only two two ports per bank, which meant she could not fire as long and hard as other ships; whoever had the deck in Fire Control didn't care, he was intent on burning the conduits to a crisp as the beams cut through the night and into the Probe's shields.

 _Walker_ shook from an exceptionally heavy hit. "Report!"

"Shields down to sixty-two percent, frame damage section 1A, no breaches. . .yet." T'Vrell reported.

The ship continued to shake. "Send out a general alarm, all Federation channels, message begins: Borg spotted in Pollux System in proximity of Pollux IV, request assistance and that all civilian craft stay away from system." The message was sent in less than two seconds after he gave it.

"Phaser bank one is down, enemy shields are weakening, we just don't have the juice." Tekz reported.

"Bring us about and lay us away from enemy ship, towards _Khitomer's_ last known location if you can." The ship came away and crossed the Probe's aft as another barrage of torpedoes slammed against her side. Plasma fires were reported on a few decks.

"Sir! Klingon Bird-of-prey uncloaking ahead of us sir!"

Reddy felt his eyes got wide, his one thought on how bad this day had just become. "Lock weapons—"

"She's attacking the Borg sir!" Elisa yelled in exhilaration.

The B'rel roared directly over them and poured her dual heavy cannons and torpedo barrage into the weakened Probe. All it took was for a single photon to penetrate the shields and hit the ship, it did and Reddy could imagine a sick crunching sound as the blast shook the Borg Probe.

"Helm about 90 degrees, give me a full broadside!"

They did, coming about the phasers lit with orange tinged white fire, cutting the Probe with their power. Bank 1 finally gave way and went silent but it was too late anyway. They came all the way around and let torpedoes fly, three of them did the Probe in, her detonation blinded the crew for a second. When it cleared there was no remains of the Borg, and no sign of the B'rel.

"Where'd it go?" Morris muttered to himself.

"Probably disobeyed orders helping us, I bet her captain sees a type of punishment in his future." Elisa pondered.

"No need to worry about him now, we have to warn Captain Yim. Helm lay in course, best possible Impulse power!" He turned to T'Vrell. "Open hailing frequency and get me Yim, ASAP!" he barked strutting about the bridge, anxious for news from the _Noble-_ class and her crew.

"Sir, I am unable to contact the _Khitomer_." T'Vrell stated.

"Enemy in their last known location sir, three contacts, definitely not Spheres sir." Morris informed.

"All ahead, give me every ounce of power, Arripak!" he was furious, they just didn't understand did they! If Borg were here, things had definitely gone to pot and that meant lives would be lost. "Faster damn you! We've got to help her!"

"One minute to target sir." Potter said, her voice was calmer than her captain's.

"I want all battery's firing independently and no less than three torpedoes every ten seconds." He said to Tekz, who replied anxiously.

He waited, seated yet frtically drumming his fingers on the side of the leather command chair. He counted, slowly, in his head. Counted down as the image of four ships, three darker shaped lancing out green energy against a single brighter contact barely managing to engage a single ship. They grew larger.

"Enemy in firing range in five seconds."

"Switch power from engines to weapons and shields, fire at will!"

The orange energy came free, filling the screen with it's three beams of each pulsing battery. Two of them focused on the nearest Probes, cutting at it's shields as torpedo and torpedo launched after it. The Borg vessel shook but lived, then she crumbled, her middle splitting as they broke something important. It was consumed in a cloud of green fire as the weapons tracked against a different ship, this time it gave little fight. Already weakened by the fire of the _Khitomer_ , the ship shook and exploded at the third torpedo to breach it's shields. The final Probe, less damaged than the others, smartly placed _Walker_ between it and _Khitomer_ , holding a range that made _Khitomer's_ phasers worthless. She held her range and squeezed off a torpedo here and there, but all together was ineffective against _Walker's_ strengthened shields.

Yet it was a two way street, both pounded each other straight for about a minute before _Walker_ coaxed the Probe back into the range of _Khitomer's_ guns, it shook under the power of _Walker's_ broadside and the small yet powerful fire of _Khitomer's_ main battery. A photon torpedo ended her life, it hit somewhere near engineering and overloaded the warp core and blew the ship to oblivion.

The fire and light cleared the eyes of the bridge crew and Reddy stood and whirled at T'Vrell. "Any comms with _Khitomer_?" He asked, pulse racing from combat.

"I think I may have it sir." All eyes went to the main viewscreen. Up came the pale and artificial Vulcan face of an Emergency Medical Hologram.

"Hello, I am the Emergency Medical Hologram aboard the Bridge of United Star Ship _Khitomer_ , commissioned under the United Federation of Planets Starfleet for exploration and current geological surveys of Pollux IV, how may I be of service?"

Reddy gave a concerned glance about the bridge, while the foreground was taken up by the EMH, the background showed damage to the bridge, and substantial at that. "EMH, state reason for activation?"

"No crew on the bridge is able to conduct their post needs, it is requested that medical personel be sent to the bridge immediately."

"Can we get contact with anyone else on the ship?" Reddy looked at T'Vrell.

"Negative, no contact with anyone on the ship, I'm also detecting weapons fire in the hangar area."

Reddy swore. "Get me two security teams and beam them—"

"Sir!" Morris called. "Federation ship approaching at high warp sir, no ID yet, definitely a cruiser."

Reddy ordered for a hail put through. It came up the moment a sparkling and unscarred white cruiser came into view from high warp. The face in the command chair was a Vulcan, and Reddy immediately regretted calling them. "This Captain Vo'Lok of the USS _Renown,_ we received a distress signal and general distress call from this system, we appear to have arrived late."

"Actually, just in time captain, you can be a friend and beam a couple security and medical teams to the _Khitomer_ , I'd appreciate that." Reddy spoke arrogant and commandingly, naturally since he was the first commanding officer on scene, and secondly because he hated Vulcan captains, especially the males.

"Indeed, we will send teams over immediately, but what is the situation Lieutenant?" Vo'Lok made motions to someone off screen and a person passed behind his chair.

Elisa moved to give the report. "Sir, _Khitomer_ was in orbit scanning gamma radiation clouds when we received a distress signal from her. When it turned out that the signal was false, we began helping her. It turns out that both of us were pounced by Borg Probes, looks like _Khitomer_ was boarded or some of her crew was assimilated. Either way, these are Borg, sir." She spoke with a little more reverence, yet Reddy still sat staring with a very stern eye at the Vulcan.

"I see, we must think carefully now, I would order you out of the system, but you said you were scanning the radiation clouds? Yes. I'd like you to transmit that data to our ship so that we may process it, we need—" the image faded as sensor alarms went off on both bridges.

"Thirty plus enemy contacts! All Borg sir." Morris' voice shook with the edge of terror as they stared out to see not only the ships, but a massive structure that few remembered from their training as a transwarp conduit.

"Forty percent power to shields, forty to weapons, twenty to engines Mister Arripak." Reddy sat back down, a scary feeling of calm about him, his nervousness contained in the shaking of his hands. "Engage nearest target, Mister Tekz."

"Hold on, most of the enemy ships are leaving, only a few remain." Morris' tone was quizzical.

"Continue to engage, weapons to bridge control."

The phasers worked together this time, _Renown_ joined in and the automated firing systems, activated by the EMH via Vo'Lok's command codes, of the _Khitomer_ joined in to pour fire into the nearest ship, a Sphere. For a minute they danced about it, wearing it's shields away and eventually pounding it with torpedoes. When it exploded _Renown_ hailed them.

"The Borg are not finished or running. I think that there most likely target would be the Vega colony, it has had a massive influx of colonists lately and would be the perfect location to raise the army needed to storm the Beta Quadrant. Lieutenant Reddy, I know you don't like me and have full authority of the situation here, but I am requesting that you rush to Vega and warn them immediately. My teams are aboard the _Khitomer_ and I am more suited to hold here until I get help or we are ready to move away. I will try and send any ship I can to help you, but I need you to get there and get as many people as possible off the planet. Now!"

"Yes sir, good luck sir." Reddy stood and ordered the transmission to be cut off. "Helm, lay in course and set best possible speed for Vega, every ounce Potter, every single ounce!"

The ship came about and went to warp. As she disappeared the other Spheres closed on the two ships, more ships appeared and _Renown_ and _Khitomer_ were encased in bright beams of energy as they were surrounded by the Borg and their Spheres and Cubes.


	19. Episode 1: Part 5

So I introduce another character into this story, Lt. Commander (Ret.) Archibald "Dallas" Sumner, a Texan, obviously, who is in for a tragic life as a reinstated officer when Vega is attacked. In this chapter you will also hear mention of a _Nova-_ class Science Vessel, I thought I might make it an _Oberth-_ class but decided instead to go with the _Nova_ , I was also going to name the ship as the _Bittrich_ , for General Bittrich of the Wehrmacht but decided instead to go with the German word for Hummingbird. Please enjoy another chapter of this story and let me know if you want longer chapters.

 **Part 5**

"Ten minutes to Vega IX sir." Potter reported.

Reddy stood and walked to the engineering station at the rear of the bridge. "Can you get me any more power?" He spoke low, yet with a heavy force behind his voice, to Arripak.

The Ferengi did not look up from his console. "We're at Warp Factor 5.6, any more and we'll either overload the core, or come apart in space." He spoke exactly the same.

Reddy straightened and walked, hands clutching white knuckled behind his back, around the bridge. He was standing over Morris when he spun about. "T'Vrell! Is there any Federation ships in the area of Vega IX?"

T'Vrell quickly did a search through the disposition manifests before looking back. "Sir, the only ships in that area are primarily Federation chartered freighters delivering supplies and taking goods away." She paused, hesitant to give another bit of information. "Sir, there is one Science Vessel, USS Kolibri, but she's been decommissioned and landed in a forest for almost seven years. Most of the colonists wouldn't know about her."

Reddy ordered that a picture of Vega IX be pulled up on the main viewscreen. "Where is this ship supposed to be in comparison to where the colony administrator would be?" A blue flag appeared at the Colony's 'capital' then the planet swung around. Almost completely opposite was the outline of a _Nova_ -class vessel in mountainous region. "Well bugger that plan. T'Vrell, I need you to signal any Starfleet combat vessel you can—"

"I have tried sir, but it appears that communications have broken down, I have been unable to contact any Starfleet or signal repeater anywhere." T'Vrell interrupted.

"Same here sir, my sensors aren't getting anything within range, and that's half of this sector and the next." Morris added on to the problem.

"Then send out a general message, all frequencies, no scramble or anything. I want everyone everywhere in range to hear it."

"Ready for transmission sir." T'Vrell looked back at him.

"Message reads: To all ships capable of combat, it is confirmed that there is a Borg Transwarp Conduit in the vicinity of Pollux IV, we believe that the Borg are attempting to secure a beachhead in the Beta Quadrant and thus are heading for Vega IX. I need not tell any sane man what this means, I'm requesting immediate assistance in the Vega System, and that this message be relayed by any civilian vessel to a nearby Federation ship, and to nearby civilian vessels so that they may stay away from both systems. Message ends." T'Vrell worked several seconds compacting the data burst then firing it at faster than light speeds, she then looked up and stated that the transmission had been sent.

Reddy went back to his chair and continued to drum his fingers anxiously as the minutes passed away. Under his breath he murmured nothing, only gibberish as he waited. Elisa tried to comfort him, tell him they'd make it and be able to save the Borg, but she wasn't sure about that, and her words were empty and had no value.

They were five minutes out.

 **Vega IX**

Work on the forested mountains of Vega IX brought mixed feelings to the mind of Archie "Dallas" Sumner. His long days of running about and inspecting cargo and seeing that containers were properly balanced in the cargo lifts and shuttles tired him and made him long for home and his wife's loving arms, it was something he liked. But the ruthless Ferengi who argued and tried to crack a whip over him, supervisors who had no sense of getting the job done, and lazy workers who ignored his sharp tone, that was honed when he was a Chief, they all wore at him, and sent him home angry and with the mood of a hornet. Now, this retired Starfleet officer had less patience than five years ago when he first moved to the colony as a cargo master. The Militia had helped eased some of the pains and built up frustration, strenuous physical training and the odd predator hunt, the mountains surrounding Loading Point Iota were home to several large and menacing predators that occasionally became bold enough to raid a small outlying village and take something to eat, helped him release his inner tensions. His promotion to Guard Captain also helped as he finally got to yell at someone who would listen to him.

Still there were downsides, every Sunday evening, after most of the fifty person group had left the Vega IX Embassy, Archie had to fill out all the paperwork he had put off during the week because of his regular job and the constant need to be in his wife's arms, and to once again see the magical face of his newborn daughter. Sunday's were long and quiet, he'd spend most of the morning either finally taking a long nap on his front porch or, if he felt like it, trekking several miles up the mountain to where the Catholic settlement for their 9-10 o'clock service. He'd spend the first part of the afternoon with his family and the neighbors in the glade down the street before he bid them goodbye and made the one mile trip to the central town to the Embassy where the Militia would be forming for their Sunday training. It was then, after the training which went on to seven o'clock, he began his paperwork. Sometimes a Vulcan white collar, named Sakup, would help him rather than go back to her small village—if so she'd have to spend the night in the basement of the Embassy—by that time he'd tend to be done with work by ten o'clock. They did on the February 3rd.

Sakup was part of the same generation that was eighteen when Archie was graduating at the age of twenty-five, now that he had four years of service behind him, and five years as a family man, she was stunning and well built militiawoman who was a crack shot with her classic Klingon disruptor pistol, she claimed to have 'found' it when she passed through Drozona station, and still had that very still and logical sense that Vulcans did. Archie knew three, excluding her, Vulcans on the Militia close enough to know they no longer were those still and unemotional people; many had come to actual thought by loss, gain, love, and some eventful and sudden happening. One had lost his Vulcan son, another had wrestled with an animal similar to a Sol Tiger, the final had been seduced and won over by a young human girl, which some considered immoral in age comparison, all were fine gentlemen and hard workers. Sakup had some personalities of such a person, but her all over thinking was nothing but logical.

At approximately 2206 Sunday evening they took up there bags and departed. Sakup would be taking tomorrow off for a special Vulcan ritual that Archie didn't understand, so she'd try and make it home tonight. Archie didn't wait around to watch her walk away, he simply whistled a happy tune and strutted off at the pace his long legs deemed casual—someone had once commented that he was eighty percent leg, and the rest personality. The night was beautiful, a moon was big and bright as the villages lay sleeping, he enjoyed these long walks home in the night. On Sunday's he hadn't stressed himself as much as the rest of the week, so he had a good reserve of energy for the hike back home. He wasn't far from home when his communicator bleeped.

It was an old machine, he actually hated it and wished he could do away with it, but he answered it.

"Archie? Thank the gods!" It was the voice of Charley Zengilowski, high pitched and strained.

"What's wrong Charley?" The man tended to get worked up about a simple thunderstorm, he was a meteorologist who had a small post on top of a high bluff. The man was also an astrologist and was about as white and wild haired as any kids crazy scientist Archie knew.

"Just get up here, now Archie!" He paused. "And bring Silva with you!" the communicator shut off.

Archie's creased his eyebrow, calling him up to the bluff wasn't uncommon, but calling George Silva, a Bajorian-Human, the Guard Lieutenant for this sector of the Loading Point Iota area, was uncommon. Archie put some extra power behind his step and called Silva. When he got the man, his voice was both tired and irritable, he had either been doing a deed or sleeping heavily.

"It's Dallas, Silva."

"So? What fucks do I give?" the first was more likely, the burly man hardly ever spoke to anyone with such a tone.

"Charley is having fits again, I need you to get ready and get up there, I'm going to drop by my place then head on up there."

"Why the hell do we have to pay attention to him? I mean, it's ten fifteen for heaven's sake." Archie could hear Silva shifting about and pulling on clothes.

"Well we don't, but I don't want him running through the streets yelling about the end of the world and getting everyone's panties in a wad, just get ready and get moving, I bet you'll be back abed by midnight."

Silva continued to mutter low curses as and cut the transmission. Archie sprinted the rest of the way to his house. It wasn't much, a log cabin with a total of three rooms, one simply to separate him and his wife from their main room when they slept, and a yard just large enough for three barrels that Archie grew some good old human potatoes in. The lights were still on as Archie stepped on the porch and found his lovely wife waiting for him.

Fryfoe Sumner, a beautiful woman who was a mystery even to her and her parents. Archie had met her years ago when he had been a Civil Engineering Chief for the operations crew on the USS _Kirk_ , his troops had been doing a large amount of construction on a border planet in Alpha Quadrant when they had reached an area full of an unknown race. They worked together and were perfectly fine except the idea of housing, his men required a large area to sleep and their constant change of bivouacs had made many local elders concerned that they were damaging undergrowth and possibly attracting dangerous reptiles that could pose a major threat to the teams. They had been assigned a couple of guides to help them find good locations to bivouac, Fryfoe had been assigned to them and had become a stowaway when she had accidentally been beamed up to the _Kirk_ and had hid in fear of the crew moving machinery about. Archie had found her half a week later and reported her. It turned out that he was short of a couple hands and they couldn't return her due to the area being claimed by Klingons and no one wanted to have a spat over it, she apparently didn't want to go back after she began eating Starfleet rations. Before long she was a pressed enlisted woman and followed Archie everywhere. For some time he considered her as something like a child or a pet, he didn't realize for almost a year that she had a massive crush on him. Before long he realized; it was awkward at first, being close to someone he almost considered as a daughter, but before long they were lovers. Fryfoe had married him when he made it through the Academy and was assigned as the Second/Operations Officer aboard the USS Rhode Island. They had made there trip together for some years before, finally, Archie got his lifelong wish to live on a colony and get to come home each night to Fryfoe in a wood cottage on a mountain. Before, they stopped by Fryfoe's homeplanet and met her parents once before she settled. Her civilization had advanced and finally they bid goodbye and went to their new home. There they settled in a very boring and robotic life before, after almost nine years of trying, they had their child.

The planet Fryfoe came from was a mix of species, yet both her parents had been mostly human and still she had been born with crimson skin and strange yellow markings along her hairline, her hair was jet black and always kept in a neat ponytail that usually hung around in front of her. She was just about his height and she greeted him with her sweet and loving kiss when he stepped in the door.

"Hey honey." He said lovingly.

"Hey." She held a finger to her mouth and kissed him again, trying to pull him over to the bed in the room adjacent to the spacious living space that their daughter slept in.

He looked softly at her, she was dressed in her silk gown that she could always easily slide off her shoulders and step from, he could tell she was wearing nothing under it by the way it fit over her body. He hated how he had too push her away and put his bags down. He almost felt a tear in his eye as he went to the coat rack beside the back door and take his belt from it. He grabbed the belt and the tetryon bolt pistol on it. His face didn't change as he took his auto rifle from it's hooks above the fireplace.

The whole time Fryfoe had stood with an equally solemn face, he finally met her eyes. "Charley has got himself worked up over nothing, I'll be back in an hour or two."

She sighed and closed the distance, her kiss seemed reluctant, she had been ready for him but he had been forced to turn her down, something worse than actually wanting to turn her down.

Archie stepped into the dark, slung the rifle across his back and jogged off towards the bluff.


	20. Episode 1: Part 6

**Part 6: Vega IX, 2231 LP Iota Local Time.**

It took a bit longer than expected for Archie to reach the bluff, yet by ten thirty he walked slowly up to the small metal shack wedged between to rocks. The shack constituted Charley Zengilowski's weather post.

He opened the door to see a concerned George Silva with a hand rubbing his white goatee and staring at an equally concerned Dr. Zengilowski. _Not good_ , Archie thought.

"Alright, why'd you drag me up here at this hour Charley?" He asked, concern bordering his usually controlled voice.

Charley swung his chair around, and pulled up an image of the space directly above them. "This, mein freund."

Archie gasped, orbit was dominated by a single, but possibly three or more Borg Cubes. It was something he and anyone else who went through any type of command or recognition training at the academy, something that you hoped if you ever saw, it was simply a ruined copy or a hallucination. It was something that killed, no, assimilated millions and fed off the people you couldn't save.

"Impossible." he breathed.

"Not so, this footage came in half an hour ago, they are Borg."

"But three of them? Here! Over Vega IX?" Archie felt like ripping his hair out. "Any idea what they're doing?"

"None, other than their obvious job, of course." Charley sat, somber faced and concerned.

Archie turned and stepped from the shack, it was only a few yards to the edge of the bluff. He stood there and drew his communicator, on it was a programmed switch meant to trigger a General Alarm that would wake every militiaman and woman in the force, they'd check in with the night guard back at the embassy and then be assigned missions. He pressed the button.

Throughout the force, communicators would bleep and force members would open it to hear a loud and invasive blaring which would have to be cleared by contacting HQ. Before long Archie could hear different troops checking in, Sakup was one of the first. In almost five minutes the entire group had checked in and was awaiting orders.

"Alright, that's almost everyone, now who started the chain?" asked the HQ operator. Archie held the device up and began his adress.

"Attention all, this is Guard Captain Sumner. Almost an hour ago, Charley Zengilowski received an image from one of the orbital telescopes. The image was not a storm of some sort, but of several ships. These ships were of Borg design. I am now declaring a stage one alert—" the line suddenly garbled and he lost contact, a second later he was tossed off his feet as the ground shook and the night sky was filled with an unnatural green glow.

Silva was out on the cliff and helping Archie to his feet quickly. The communicator didn't work. "Jamming our signals, prelude to the invasion."

Silva pointed a shaky finger off the cliff and down into their village. "Not prelude, vanguard."

Even from his point several hundred feet above, and almost a mile away, Archie could see the faint green glow that heralded transporter uses. For the first time in his life he realized just how scared he was, there were Borg in his town.

 **Day side of Vega IX**

Finally they were overlooking Vega IX's light side, somewhere below was the Administrator and countless millions of souls. Reddy stood from his seat. "T'Vrell, get me the colony administrator."

"Hailing her now sir, I have an audio link with Administrator Willa Post."

Reddy punched the audio contact key beside him. "Administrator Post?"

"Yes?" cam an elderly voice, garbled by extreme static.

"This is Acting Lieutenant Patrick Reddy, I'm here to warn you that Borg are believed to be heading this way right now."

There was a pause. "Lieutenant, I can't exactly here you well. Did you say Borg or am I getting old?"

Reddy began to repeat himself when the speaker on his panel screached with static, he quickly turned it down and looked at T'Vrell. "I've lost contact sir, I think our predictions are right, I'm losing contact with ships and stations in this system." she said.

"Get it back, now!" He stood and looked at Morris. "Sensor report, Bernie."

The southerner looked at him. "Seems as we got a bit of Gamma radiation on the far side of the planet, and I think I detect objects on the edge of the system approaching at high velocities. I'll be a bugger if it's not the Borg."

Reddy looked away. "Please think positive Mister Morris." he went back and stood beside his chair. "Helm, take us closer to the planet, I want to be able to beam civilians up."

They moved slowly closer. T'Vrell failed contact again, after five minutes of constant hailing, and a failed attempt at using a communications satellite to boost their comms, Reddy made a decision. "I'm going down." He announced. "I'll take one of my staff, you're staying here Flores, and I'll get Administrator Post to begin evacuations."

Elisa protested. "We don't have contact down there, how do you expect to get people to come up? Surely you don't expect them to have a large amount of shuttles do you?"

"I'll set up pattern enhancers and try and radio to you at that point," he threw a glance at T'Vrell and Elisa, "keep in mind they do not have Starfleet grade equipment. If I fail to make contact, keep your sensors locked on for any energy patterns that could be me trying to signal you in the area of Admin Post's settlement."

Elisa's eyes still showed concern, she either wanted to be in the fight, or didn't want to be left up here with command of _Walker_. Either way, she decided, she had no choice. Her commanding officer looked about the bridge.

"Who want to volunteer?" he asked.

Potter jumped upright from her slot. "Aye sir! At you service!" She threw a gaudy salute.

Reddy rolled his eyes and guestured for her to follow him. He entered the lift and did an about face. "Flores, you have command."

The door closed and the lift whizzed off, Elisa moved to the center of the bridge. Under her breath she shakily said the lines. "I have the command."

 **2249 LP Iota Local Time**

Zengilowski, Silva, and Archie didn't spare their legs going down the bluff. In all it was total trip of about three miles and they were moving at a rate that a single slip would send them tumbling down, broken body and neck. It didn't matter if either of them did: Archie and Silva had wives to tend to, and Charley had a younger sister who lived in a settlement opposite of the Embassy.

The fires below were growing, spreading from street to street as energy discharges lead the path. Screams rose through the sound of their feet shuffling down the mountain and above the explosions caused by Borg breaching charges. They weren't paying any attention to that, they just kept running for their homes. When they reached the bottom they split, Archie didn't realize this until a shorter man slapped him in the face with the butt of his rifle.

Archie lay on the ground for a second, trying to blink stars from his eyes, he came up quick and was once again knocked down by the rifle. "The bloody hell!" The weapon leveled at him and hung off his nose.

"Listen to me!" The voice yelled, deep and powerful. Archie wanted to ignore it, he tried standing again. He was knocked down. "Listen to me!" he bellowed.

Archie wiped blood from the side of his face. "Damnit man! My wife and child are in there!" He glanced down the fiery street.

The man came down and clutched his hands around Archie's collar and, despite his height he was strong, lifted Archie's shoulders off the ground. "You can cry later man, get on your feet!" He hauled Archie upright and stepped back to attention. He saluted. "Sir, reporting for duty!"

Archie thought for a moment, then punched him. As the man gathered himself and Archie clutched his smarting fist. "Situation Militiaman!" he ordered.

The man stood straight again. "Sir, they're moving through the town and slowly expanding outwards from the main street. We've lost several units already and I was sent to find you and Guard Lieutenant Silva sir." he paused and looked down for a second. "Sir, they're herding the civilians away, last I saw just about everyone on this street was being herded back towards the Embassy road."

Archie knocked him down again. "What about our readiness? Troop strength?"

"Troop Sergeant Ruzngu had about six troops, including me, last I saw him over near the waterwheel." The man picked himself up and continued to stand at attention after casting an eye about.

Archie was about to speak when he heard someone call his rank. Ruzngu was an old, six-nine, Saurian with a face that looked as if it was turning to ash, he approached and saluted, ordering his squad to spread out into a protective semi-circle. "Sir!" He spoke in his old voice.

"Report Sergeant!" Archie snapped.

Ruzngu gave it, never once looking at Archie for more than three straight seconds. "Sir, we've been buggered. They swept through the town so fast that most men hadn't even gotten out of their bed, and have already begun assimilating. Last I saw of any type of resistance was three boys with pistols." His lips twitched. "They didn't make it."

Abruptly the conversation came to a close, a sickly green bolt of light cut across their vision and struck one of Ruzngu's squad dead in his tracks. They stood there, staring at the corpse's chest sizzling from disruptor fire. Another bolt came down the street and almost got Archie.

"Supressing fire!" Archie yelled. The squad, brought back to reality, split and spread out. Fire from four different types of weapon focused down the street. The drones paid no heed to the hailstorm of fire. Coming up the street was almost thirty Borg drones, they fired slowly, interspersed and coming up the street. Occasionally one would fall from the fire, but still they advanced and came on.

Archie called for the squadron to fall back. They pulled off and moved five streets down, moving closer to the _Danube_ -runabout that was on the west side of the settlement. They never made it, they were suddenly cut off by a group of three, more skilled and powerful, drones that easily downed the two pointmen. Archie grabbed Ruzngu and pulled him to the side, ducking around the corner of a house. While he tasked the old Saurian to fire at the group of advancing drones, Archie flanked around and hit them from behind. The troop went among the three bodies and filled them with several more energy scars, Lt. Silva came from the opposite direction. He trudged up, head down, weapon hanging from one hand.

He walked up and saluted his captain. "Sir, Guard Lieutenant George Silva, reporting for orders." His voice shook with grief.

Archie dipped his head and placed a hand on Silva's shoulder. "We'll get them for it, George, we'll show the bastards who we actually are."

Silva nodded, his lips pouting and his eyes welling to be tear stricken. He composed himself. "Someone took the runabout, I don't know who, but someone did." He sniffed.

Archie nodded and looked at the surrounding faces, for the first time since he had led an away team he finally felt like he had a command, and a reason to make important decisions. He snapped to that military sharpness that had been beneath the surface for five years. He spun about. "We've got to get to the Embassy, that's our main rally point and I know for a fact that there should be a total of fifteen troops in that vicinity that group there in emergencies." He pointed to the man who had knocked him down. "Take point, I'll bring up the rear. Keep an eye open, remember, they've begun assimilating and that means you'll be seeing friends," Archie glanced at Silva, "and maybe even family. You must show no mercy." He nodded and they moved off.


	21. Episode 1: Part 7

A special thanks to Jasmin Kenobi for being my first reviewer! Thank you for your support Jasmin!

Anyway, in this chapter we cover a little bit of Patty's and Ash's adventure on their part of the planet.

 **Part 7: Administration City, Vega IX**

Things went to pot the second Potter and Reddy beamed unto Vega IX.

Where they had thought would be a city wall turned out to be four miles of mountain road, then three more getting down to a city gate, all the way listening to the buzz of a massive assimilation beam that was coming from somewhere in orbit. Reddy would have bit his nails if he hadn't been running, he and Potter had trekked miles and were panting by the time they came to a group of civilians. They stood, twenty-five yards away, panting until someone noticed them and pointed out there was two Starfleet cadets standing nearby.

From what Reddy could gather, a Cardassian had wanted to open the gate and go into the small town to find the Administrator, while the rest of the gathering had wanted to make a run for it and leave the gate closed to discourage the Borg following them. All came to a stop when Reddy straightened and walked into the crowd.

"Is there a problem here?" He looked about, the heads bowed and people moved back from him.

The Cardassian came forward, she bowed her head in respect. "Sir, Administrator Post is still in the colony, along with countless others who are hiding."

Reddy nodded, nothing that he already knew. He drew his communicator. Before long a voice responded.

" _Walker_ here, T'Vrell speaking."

"T'Vrell, can you get a transporter lock on my position? I have a group of civilians that need to beam up."

There was a pause. "Negative sir, we're hiding in a very low orbit, lowering out shields could burn us up, we'd have to pull from orbit long enough to drop our shields, but we would be detected by the Borg."

"Very well, wait until I give the signal and I want you to pull from orbit, I'll be beaming as many as I can all up at once. Reddy out." He looked at the group's pleading eyes. "I can't get you now, but hide until I or the Administrator give the signal, then get in the open." He looked back at the Cardassian. "Let me inside."

She nodded and quickly activated the gate. As soon as it began to go up she bolted, running away as the gate was suddenly shoved up by the might of a tall and heavily armored Borg. Reddy stumbled back for several seconds, startled by the size and the suddenness of the monstrosity, while Potter whipped out her pistol and shot it. It paused as the straight orange phaser beam impacted and seemed to nothing against it's chest, but suddenly it's arms came up as the beam punched through the strange energy field surrounding it and sliced through the chest.

Potter twirled the pistol about and holstered it. She reached down and helped Reddy to his feet. She said a derogatory comment about the body laying on the ground and stepped around it into the street beyond, she immediately ducked back. She waved Reddy up and invited him to look around the corner, he ducked quickly back as well, then slowly eased out.

The street was populated by Borg, drones and newly assimilated citizens, Reddy could tell by the clothing they wore under the enhancements that the Borg had attached, all wandered through the street, some assisting the holding of other, unassimilated, citizens as they were implanted with Borg technology. Potter tapped his shoulder and pointed to a street sign, it signaled that the route to the capital building was along this street. Reddy searched the street, there was no way they could fight his way down it, he spotted a back alley and waved Potter after him.

Some ten minutes of moving, sometimes even crawling, down back alleys brought them to the main square and building. Reddy looked across the square to see it deserted, and the administration building defended by an eight foot wall that was simply a sight obstruction. Cautiously at first, then pellmell across the yard, Reddy and Potter sprinted to the wall and knelt in it's shadow. Now they crept along until Reddy spun around and instinctively disarmed the body holding a phaser rifle leveled at him.

He switched the gun around and held it on the Saurian, the man held his hands up and let out a cry of surprise.

"Who are you!" Reddy yelled, the Saurian's eyes went wide as he realized that the person towering over him was a human in Starfleet Academy attire.

"Ensign Kolez, Starfleet!" He cried, wincing as the weapon came closer to his head. Reddy yelled for him to explain why he was on Vega IX. "I was on leave, I just finished my training and was bound to join an assault team near the Neutral Zone."

Reddy brought the gun up and held out a gun. He helped Kolez up. "If you ever want to catch someone around a corner, don't stand within arm reach." He handed the gun back.

Kolez dusted himself off and turned, waving a hand at a pile of crates beside the administration building. An elderly woman, possibly in her early sixties, appeared and came closer.

"Administrator Post, this is. . ." Kolez trailed off.

"Reddy, Acting Lieutenant. We spoke earlier ma'am." Reddy nodded.

"Lieutenant, I'd expect for you to have a larger group." She said, almost cynically.

"Pardon me ma'am, but I thought there weren't any Borg in orbit."

"The second I lost contact with you we were pounced, Kolez has managed to save my life three times already."

Potter had been watching the yard. "They must have hidden in lower orbit, their assault ships must be quicker than their others. They would have begun attacking the second their Probes arrived."

Reddy had a bad realization of what that meant. He looked at Administrator Post. "How many civilians do you have waiting for rescue?"

"Somewhere between one hundred fifty and two hundred that I know about." She looked at her communicator. "I can contact them and tell them what I need too, but I can't do it individually. I need to send out a message to this entire city."

Reddy sucked on his cheek, he drew his own communicator and hailed _Walker_. T'Vrell's voice soon came on. "Yes sir?"

"I have made it to the town's center, the Administrator says she had at least two hundred civilians that she knows are waiting for a signal. Can we beam that many on board?"

There was a pause before Arripak's voice came on the line. "Sir, I'm not positive, if we don't plan to keep that many on board for more than six hours, then yes. But we'd have the most crashing headaches by about five."

"Be frank Arripak." Reddy had turned away from the group and was standing looking down a side street beside the admin building.

"Sir, it's crazy, we need to run straight home at maximum warp if we do."

"Thank you Mr. Arripak. T'Vrell, what about actually beaming them up?"

"We are currently hiding in a very low orbit, we will have to break this orbit and fend off Borg ships without shields for as long as it takes to get them aboard. Also, we may not be able to fit them all on board, and we may have to beam you up prematurely."

Flores cut in. "Flores here, Captain I just did a tactical assessment, the enemy seems to have moved from this current area of space around the other side of the colony. I think we can buy roughly ten minutes, that should be long enough if you find a way to boost the transporter signal."

Reddy rubbed his chin, he could feel a strange stubble he had forgotten to tend to this morning. He felt a curious calm, even as he was deciding the fate of some two hundred or more living beings, not to mention the two hundred crew of his ship. He told _Walker_ to standby and walked over to where Potter had broken open a crate. She was pulling from it long blue poles and assembling them. He asked what she was doing.

"Remember your operations training Cap'n," she said sarcastically, "we need to set up a beaming area for this evac. Better than taggin' each person we meet."

Reddy almost slapped himself, of course that was the key, he told her to hurry up and then instruct Admin Post how to use a tricorder to work the pattern enhancers. He had another problem, the signal wasn't just going to who was still alive, it was going into every house and panel throughout the area, alerting not only the unaware, but the enemy who had waltzed into somebody's home and assimilated them. If the enemy wasn't smart enough to take the Admin Building now, they'd be damn sure to take it over then.

Reddy spun about and called loudly. "Kolez!" the Saurian sprinted to him. He turned and pointed at the main access street to the square. "Set up over there and watch for Borg, if they come, see if you can find a way to distract them." He pushed the Saurian on his way before he could protest. He set to moving crates about and pushing them into a barricade across the opening in the wall between the Admin building and the square.

Potter came up. "Pattern enhancer set up, Administrator Post is ready to send the signal."

Reddy nodded. "Tell her to go ahead and send it. But tell her that anyone with a weapon, of any kind, to bring them and help defend the evacuation zone." Potter rushed off while Reddy drew his communicator. He called _Walker_ and informed them, Elisa had said that the space above them was clear for the time being and they would be able to beam the group up. She finished with informing him that _Walker_ was in position and ready to start the beaming. As he closed the line Potter rushed over and said that the message had been sent. Seconds later the first streams of running civilians came by, Potter grabbed the one's with weapons and sent them over to a hasty dual defense lines Reddy had constructed. Five minutes after, only a handful of citizens had beamed up and the defense line featured at least ten persons with weapons from old firearms to brand new energy rifles. As the larger groups began to funnel in they heard an explosion from across the way. Reddy crouched low and aimed an ancient cartridge firing rifle. Before long Kolez came sprinting across the square, Potter joined him from where she had been directing refugees.

Several seconds after Kolez took cover behind the barrier, several green bolts of energy whipped across the way. There was little to say as the rifles aimed for alley.

"Here they come." Potter said, hardly audible above the general din of Borg assimilation technology.

 **USS** ** _Walker_** **, orbit above.**

Elisa stood as Sarah Triss stepped unto the bridge, expecting a dull or angry report from the transporters, she was surprised to see the woman almost bouncing with excitement.

"Elisa!" She called too loudly.

Elisa had been hoping for some good news. "What?" She spoke in a curt, yet hopeful, tone.

Triss passed her PADD over. "This." Elisa studied the screen for a second, it was a text file, she looked up and asked what it is. "What it is," Triss started as she took the PADD back, "is a study made on the special alloy the armor of the USS _Kolibri_ is made from. It's built to withstand perforation, and most of all ask as a preserver for the interior systems of the ship."

"Your point?" Elisa had problem's following the ginger's train of thought.

"The point is, with a trained group of Engineering and Science Officers, we can get her running. Now admittedly she's no cruiser, and judging by her time in the jungle probably not operating at full efficiency, but she can still save another hundred or so lives." Elisa didn't say anything, they held eye contact for several seconds before Triss spoke. "What I want is to take Zarva and a team of officers down to get her off the ground, even if she doesn't have phasers her torpedo tubes should still work."

For a second Elisa was skeptical, Zarva was crucial to the ship's engineering room so she couldn't go, and Triss was a good friend of Patrick Reddy, letting her go would endanger her life. "It's dangerous." Elisa said.

"Bugger the danger, we have a chance to save another hundred, maybe two, from assimilation."

Elisa went to the captain's chair and sat. She took a few seconds to think, it was a bad decision either way. If she let Triss go, as much as she hated the Scotswoman, and she was killed Elisa would never forget it, and neither would Pat. If she didn't she'd be guaranteeing the death of another one or two hundred Federation citizens. "Very well, you can go, but only to ready the ship for flight, I'm sending Lieutenant Brikkars with you to search for civilians. Zarva can't go though, if you're correct, your engineering training will be enough to activate _Kolibri's_ engines."

Triss thanked her and rushed off the bridge to put a small away team together, they'd have to take a shuttle through the atmosphere and beam down to Vega IX rather than draw _Walker_ out of transporter range. Even as the sensors remained clear of Borg, Elisa had a bad feeling about the launch.

"Another group of civilians have beamed aboard, a designated messenger stated that their position had come under fire and several civilians had thrown up a defensive line." T'Vrell reported.

Elisa stared out the viewscreen, focused on the planet below. Her thoughts were as negative as she could. They had four minutes of before a Borg patrol made it around this side of the planet.


	22. Episode 1: Part 8

**Part 8: LP Iota, Embassy. 2315**

After a short firefight around the small two story Embassy, a grand total of twenty-one militiamen were alive and able to move on their own. Sixteen had died, and another seven were unaccounted for. Ambassador Thomson, Sakup, and Major Call, came out of the building when the final Borg was plastered against a nearby wall by a pulse rifle. Thomson was ecstatic to see Silva and Archie alive, he signaled them over. Archie made his way quickly into the Embassy. He found Thomson in the communications room, the body a drone and his victim lay, bodies blackened by what was most likely the blasts of Major Call's small compression rifle.

Archie stepped over the bodies and stood on the opposite side of the communications bank from Thomson. "Have a big picture Eric?" he asked.

Thomson gave him a look like he had suggested that he date Archie's sister, if he had one. "If I hadn't I'd be lying, but things are as bad anything. I've no contact anywhere, and the only confirmation I can get is that Hummingbird can't be operated by the people who were raised right next to it."

Archie was puzzled. "Hummingbird?" He inquired.

Major Call coughed, a tall burly German who was another retired Starfleet officer. "We never told him about that Eric." He coughed again, this time more forcefully.

"Told me about what?" Archie swung about and looked at the two.

Thomson dug in a drawer and found a folder of old papers. "A _Nova-_ class, vessel Archie." He came around the communications bank and handed the folder to Archie. "It was left here after the settlement was founded, it was the original mining machine, and they left it here in case it was ever needed."

Archie opened the folder and looked at it. Sure enough, the ship was a _Nova-_ class, similar to the _Rhode Island-_ class in design, the fine looks of a ship Archie hadn't set his eyes upon in years. Just looking at the pencil sketch on a piece of old parchment was enough to send a chill up his spine. He looked at the corner and saw the designation, USS _Kolibri_.

"What about her not being able to start up?" He looked at Thomson.

"Several crew have been living nearby for years, keeping her secret and making sure she stays spaceworthy, unfortunately they never thought about how hard it would be to restart a ship that hadn't moved in six—seven years."

Archie pondered shortly. He looked at Call. "How far is it from here?"

"Four, maybe five, miles, it's a straight shot most of the way, can probably make it in a few minutes if we run." The man grunted his words and had a small problem with producing spittle while he talked, he commonly wiped his mouth.

Archie looked at Thomson, his plan quickly formed. "I'm taking Sakup, Call, and that other snipe, can't recall his name now, we're going to go get her ready too move. Try and make contact with Starfleet, Willa Post, anyone you can and tell them that the Vega Colony is under attack." He turned away, then came back again. He took the gun from his belt and held it out for the tall Ambassador. "I'll be tasking my men to break away in groups and take the civilians to the ship, don't take any chances, get out once you establish contact or when the last group is ready to go." Thomson didn't say anything, he took the gun and sat, working trying to find the right frequencies to contact Starfleet.

Archie left the building and gave his orders to the gathered men. "I'll be sure to send you a guide once I find it." They were scared, but they nodded and went to there duties. No one could have prepared them for this.

Major Call had changed, before he had been wearing his very casual evening clothes, basically a set of silk pajamas, and now wore his old Starfleet Chief uniform, complete with chevrons and all. He hefted his compression rifle and nodded.

Archie put Silva in charge and followed Call and Sakup off unto a mountain trail. After several minutes of walking they were moving along a narrow trail on the side of a cliff, the bare trace of weapons fire could be heard coming from that area.

It took a little over twenty minutes to make it to a clearing with two small huts, by then they were all short of breath from the length of the run. Call told them to hold back while he approached the hut. He was a few yards away when a man came straight out of the ground. Archie almost soiled his pants when he saw the person just raise up from the dirt as if he had been formed there. The person dusted himself off and revealed his old a ragged uniform, it was much like Call's.

"Major Call I presume?" he coughed and exhaled a cloud of dust. Call nodded. "I was informed that there was an engineer coming with you." He looked at Archie and Sakup. "That's not him is it?"

Call followed the man's finger to where it focused on Archie. "Archibald Sumner, Lieutenant Commander retired, and yes he is him."

The man's eyes went wide, he took several steps and saluted. "Sir! Specialist Sergeant Dan Klien, USS _Kolibri_." He drawled.

Archie returned the salute. "What's the situation with the engines, Sergeant?"

The man hunched his shoulders and scuffed his feet. He gestured for the group to follow him into the hut, once inside he opened a trapdoor and led them into a very small room with a single command panel inside next to it was someone similar to Klien, her skin seemed one with dirt caked on it like her old and tattered sergeant uniform. Klien pushed his way around beside her.

"She's old in a sense sir, approximately nine years old, and seven years in a forest wasn't good for anything. There used to be four of us sir, me and Milo here, and Tom and Vakk across the way, except Tom and Vakk were actual engineers, we're simply electricians." He spit dirt out of his mouth again. "We rigged up this whole caboodle of a network so we could start her up without going inside, that way we could seal her off and not have to keep the door open."

"Why is that important?" Sakup asked, an eyebrow up.

While her question was completely unrelated to the current problems, the man obviously took pride in his charge. "Pressurization for one, we had her suck herself dry to keep her clean for as long as possible. And it's also just good work to make sure nothing can get into an unused ship." He looked at Archie's stern face. "Besides, sir, we don't know how to manually fire up a _Nova-_ class."

Archie nodded his head slowly, the whole time Dan had been speaking to the Vulcan girl her had accidentally let his mind stray, he had to bring it back to hard reality. "I was an engineer, I know the basics. You say you can't fire her up from here, that must mean someone had set up a protocol or rigged a simplified start up sequence. Y'all know about that."

The Saurian woman, introduced as Milo, spoke. "Vakk put that together, it's a simple command process that only required one auxiliary battery be activated for it to work. That one battery would jumpstart the main batteries and then the command process would ready her for flight." Her face was creased by several aging lines, but she wasn't much older than the young electrician. "The problem is that we overestimated how long a single battery would last, it appears that the battery we had tied into shut down. Without we can't do anything, not even open a door, but the only way to get the whole ship started is—"

"By going down there and either hand cranking the auxiliary battery, or plugging the command program into another. Either way, we drained her atmosphere five years ago when we set up the command sequence, anything gaseous down there is not breathable."

Archie saw Milo give an annoyed look but ignored her and looked at the control panel. It was very basic and low power, perfect for this kind of operation. He took over from Milo and brought up a schematic for the vessel. He paused, staring for several seconds at the shape of the _Nova-_ class, soaking in the small ship and her design. Once again he was awestruck by the world he had left so long ago, much like when he had been a nothing more than a wide eyed 'slick-sleeve' being deployed straight aboard a starship, no training at all. He shook himself out of it and quickly found the auxiliary battery room. It was located in the secondary hull in a protected room near where it connected to the saucer. He marked an access poin ton the under side and pointed it out to Dan.

"Can't go in there sir, she's buried up to the level of her saucer, you'd have to go in from topside." He marked a different point.

"But that's three decks away, if I have to go through entire bulkheads I'll never make it."

Call, who had been in the hut above keeping watch—he had been security and had no experience with complex machinery—suddenly dropped in, he tossed an angry eye at Archie. "I may not know how to properly hold a suction pump, or even how important it is to load a ship's cargo holds evenly, but I know what happens when you don't have oxygen to breath. And I know for a fact, that you're not going into that ship."

Archie tilted his head up, looking down his nose in a questioning way. "And why can you make that decision?"

"Because I'm going down there, I was a swimmer and could hold my breath longer than anyone else in my highschool."

Archie laughed. "Even if that was true Maj, you wouldn't know what to look for, or know how to operate a battery."

Call coughed and asked that Archie follow him back up top. They exited the tent, Archie felt his ears go turn red and sweat form in embarrassment. When he did speak, Call spoke in a very low voice. "Commander," Archie was surprised at the use of his Starfleet rank, rather than his militia rank. "you know as well as I, that if this ship makes it off the ground you will have to do more than just start up a few batteries. You're the only man here with any sense of command and experience with the greater workings of a starship. Now if you die trying to simply start the whole ship up? What happens then? We may have a few sergeants here and there, maybe an officer, but no one known exactly what we're doing."

Archie always looked at the ground when he was listening to someone, and Maj being twice his size didn't help. He glanced up and suddenly had an explosion in his head. They had come up a southern road, all the way they had seen absolutely nothing and that was that. Even as he had entered the clearing he had seen nothing, not even the smallest hint of a starship. He looked north and almost soiled himself.

For the first time in five years he felt small again, here he stood, two hundred yards from a monster that was crouching and looking more like a moss covered rock than a starship. Yet nonetheless, as he moved his westward he saw the twin nacelles of _Kolibri_ sticking free of the dirk and rock, looking more like an unnatural rock formation than engines. Archie swallowed and brushed his hair back, he had felt small and like an ant when he looked at the computer screen in the hut. Now he felt like a molecule beside the universe.

"Are ye even listening to me, Archie?" Maj asked, irritated by Archie's absent thought.

Archie looked at him, once again an idea forming in his mind. He patted the big man's shoulder. "Fine, Maj. You go and I'll stay, let's just do it so we can actually get the ship off."

A grin split Maj's face and he nodded. The other had come out into the clearing and were standing nearby, the two sergeants being berated by Sakup's technical questions. They approached and Milo expressed the latest of concerns.

"You Vulcan friend was just filling us in on the situation down below, looks like we've got our hands full in a sense." She hefted a dirty PADD and held it out to Archie, who took it and studied the power read out and it's affect on the surrounding area. "I pulled out Vakks old training manual and it spoke about the nominal times to restart whole ship from the cold. Life support, engines, the whole thing. The problem is that we can't start more than life support and the basic power, which doesn't include lights, without being detected. I just had a call from a native hunter, said his party stumbled upon a group of Borg. Apparently there's dozens of group moving through the mountains, either looking for this or looking for hunting parties. Either way, we need to hurry and get life support running, as well as get the civilians aboard _before_ we fire up the main power."

"Which means the start up is more than just throwing a battery switch?" Archie asked.

"Indeed." Dan came over from the second tent he some equipment on his back. "But it shouldn't be too hard, I could probably teach it to a monkey." Milo shook her head and led them off.

It wasn't much a trek, Starfleet vessels always had exterior hand holds that made it easy for them to reach the top of the saucer, then climb down to where the dirt met the neck of the ship. There Dan pulled out a number of trenching tools and handed them to the group. "If my calculations are correct, which they usually are, the hatch is about three feet down. Get digging."

Before the group could start to dig Maj drew his phaser and switched the settings over. He fired it and the ground and melted four cubic feet of the dirt. Sakup jumped into the hole and brushed dirt aside until she found the white hull beneath. Archie jumped in beside her and helped her spring the locks and throw the hatch back. They were blasted with the acrid smell of stale air and other gases. Archie pitched himself over and hung upside down in the hatch for a second. When he came up he reported what he saw.

"It's an airlock, probably manually operated."

Maj looked up from where Dan had been showing him how to start the battery. "Can you get it open?"

Archie swung his legs over and dropped into the airlock, bracing his senses against the darkness and smell. Sakup followed with a flashlight. The door was facing aft, they went to it and began turning the great round wheel the manually cranked the bolts that sealed the door. It wasn't easy, but the door soon stood open to an even fouler smelling hallway. Archie stayed long enough to take the hall number.

They climbed out to see the eyes of the group looking towards the clearing. When Archie conquered the edge of the hole he could see a group of some twenty civilians filing into the clearing. He ordered Dan to get down there and take care of them. He nodded to Sakup, who promptly slipped up behind Maj and performed the Vulcan nerve pinch. The man fell into a heap on the ground.

"What do I need to do?" Archie asked Milo, who looked surprised at how quickly the big man had fallen. She explained and a minutes later Archie slipped into the hole again and went into the darkness of the hallways.


	23. Episode 1: Part 9

**Part 9: Evac Point, light side of Vega IX**

By a Vega citizen's watch, it should be noon, but the clouds of assimilation had blotted out the sun and cast an unnatural green glow on the planet. The twenty odd defenders had risen and fallen quickly. They had started with a third of their force wielding old firearms that propelled pieces of lead through the air with the use of black powder. These were the weapons of old firearm fanatics and hunters, they were soon out of ammo and forced to retreat to the beaming area. Other men were arrogant, or inexperienced, and exposed too much of their body and killed by the fusillade of oncoming energy blasts. Archie was running low on power packs for his pistol and had organized for the teams to move slowly backwards. He had actually run out and had replaced his mark one phaser with one of those high tech, and powered, compression pistols and the bandolier of power packs from a man who had fallen beside him. He soon ran low on ammo there and was forced to drop it when the regulator overheated and turned the handle red with heat.

Their rearmost defense line was blown up by a Borg grenade and splinters of metal from the containers and odd wooden carriage rained down on them crouching below it. Reddy had a hand covering his head as he lay behind the line of crates. Potter grabbed his shoulder and shouted that they needed to retreat, Reddy fully agreed. He yelled for covering fire and fell back to the new line of defense that had formed in the ruins of their third. Some men had sprinted off, pitching their weapons to the ground and running wildly for the beaming area.

Potter disappeared and Reddy was left without a weapon behind the failing line. A man beside him was working a bolt action, at his hip was the holster for a weapon. Reddy tapped his shoulder and pointed to the gun. He unstrapped it and handed it over; Reddy found that the gun was a Colt .45, an old recoil operated pistol famous in the mid 1900s, and had not only a full magazine but four more in the pouch it was handed with.

Reddy had owned a similar French built weapon long ago, it only a few seconds to familiarize himself with working the gun. He flipped the safety off and aimed. He squeezed of three rounds and saw the Borg he had aimed for stumble backwards and fall. His wrists stung from recoil of the gun.

Another large barrage of energy bolts flew across the way, they pounded the crates and knocked the barrels in front of Reddy into him. He rolled them off and used his legs to push himself backwards and was finally pulled behind the weak wall. He was hauled up and was staring in Potter's face. Reddy tried to turn and get back into the fight but she grabbed and pulled him several yards down the wall where they could speak in lower voices.

" _Walker_ said they can't beam anymore aboard, they just snatched Willa Post and Kolez and are waiting for us."

Reddy felt anger welling inside of him, anger and a massive question. "Why the hell? We can fit more on!" He looked back where he had come, seeing the smoke and bright bolts of energy flying back and forth, men struck where they stood and tossed three yards to the rear.

Potter drew his attention back. "We've fit four hundred souls on board and the Chief said that we can't fit anymore unless we intend to learn how to breath carbon dioxide, Pat. They'll beam us up any second."

Reddy's eyes went wide. "No! Tell them to not—" his body suddenly felt lose, his view was clouded by blue and he was suddenly in the transporter room. Several citizens sat on the floor of the room with medical personnel tending to them, across the room was the transporter chief, a lady Trill, who tried to make herself busy with her console.

Reddy strolled over to her and leaned over the console. "Chief, beam me back." he ordered.

She sucked on her cheek. "I'm sorry sir, I can't do that." she didn't meet his hard eyes.

Reddy's fist slammed the leading edge of the console. "Damnit! There are people down there still! I'm your bloody captain! Beam me down." He screached.

"I'm sorry sir, I have orders from the First Officer, she says you're needed on the bridge." She took up her clipboard and went to check a panel nearby.

Reddy almost exploded on the NCO, he spun about and ran out the door in the direction of the bridge. He noticed he was still holding both the pistol and the belt in his hand, he holstered it and broke into a run. He heard his name called, Potter's voice, but ignored it and ran quicker towards the lift to the bridge.

Elisa stood from his command chair the second he stepped unto the bridge. She turned and started to talk before his fist connected with her jaw and knocked her over. Reddy towered over her and brought her up pushing her over against the wall. Both Tex and Bernhard were there, trying to pull him from Elisa. He batted them away with his elbows. With an arm across her neck, he drew the .45 and pressed it to her cheek.

"You see this! You see it!" He hissed through his teeth, hauling the hammer back. "Colt M1911 remake, early 21st century, recoil operated firing .45 caliber rounds." He pressed it harder into her left cheek. "Hollow point ammunition, nine rounds to a magazine." he felt tears welling in his eyes. "It belonged to a man down there!" he pointed the weapon at the viewscreen, letting Flores go and strolling in front of his command chair, sweat, tears, and his red face shaking along with his body. "We could have saved him! We could have saved hundreds more! But you've killed them! You doomed them all!" He faced Elisa and aimed the gun. "Maybe I should kill you! One less person who breaths as much as you means some twenty-five more people." He felt something at the back of his head, a tiny screeching, he tried to force it aside and closed on Elisa. "You could have at least have had the guts to leave me behind, or maybe send down a couple security teams and done something—"

The pain spiked and his vision exploded with stars. It was a loud screeching that pierced his head, all the way down to his physical form.

Morris looked across and saw Arripak glaring tightly at the captain. "Mister Arripak!" he shouted.

Reddy's vision cleared and he saw the face of a Ferengi over him. He stumbled up and was knocked back by a well placed punch. "Listen to yeself man! Yea talking like a madman!"

Reddy brought the pistol up, fully intending to shoot the interference. The weapon was knocked from his hand and the Ferengi's booted foot swung around in a brilliant crescent kick that pitched Reddy once more to the ground. He hauled Reddy up this time and slapped him. "Ten more souls on this boat and we'd be sucking carbon before we made it home." Reddy tried to get at him but something stopped him. Arripak noticed nonetheless and shook him hard. "Look at the damn screen you fool!" He released Reddy. An arm raising slowly and pointing at the viewscreen.

Reddy looked and cried. The sky was now black with assimilation clouds and he could see the residing explosion of administration city. He went to his knees and ran his hands over his face, he wept. He sat there and cried. Tears streaking down his dirty face as he sat and thought, twelve million, and I have four hundred aboard. He knew he was on the floor long enough for a soft and gentle voice to talk lowly to him and comfort him. A pair of arms were around him and helping him up, a handkerchief in his hands.

Reddy composed himself and stood, he never looked at his comforter. He turned and looked at Elisa, standing with her head down and one hand massaging her jaw. "First Officer report to lower decks. Assist Operations in the settling of our passengers, report." Elisa came to attention and all but ran to the secondary lift. Reddy cleared his eyes one more time and straightened into a military posture. The crowd gathered was several strong, mostly everyone had left their post to view the array. "You can return to you stations now gentlemen." They dispersed and Reddy turned to see Morris standing by, the pouch and pistol were in his hand.

Reddy took the pouch, it had a loop that he ran his belt through, and wrapped entirely around his leg. It was made of a type of bovine hide from Vega IX and applied a light amount of pressure to his leg, it was comforting and the weight of the .45 and the pressure together brought a feeling of comfort across his body.

"Third Officer, report!" he ordered.

Morris snapped to attention. "Sir, we've taken on somewhere between four hundred and four thirty civilians, they're still counting for the exact number, and that means that the air we're breathing will begin to majorly effect operation in two hours. It will become toxic less than forty-five minutes after."

"Enemy disposition?" Reddy calmly sat down. He noticed that Potter had retaken her seat.

"Currently none are extremely close, however a group of Probes are coming on from the planet's eastern bearing." Reddy saw that Morris was conflicted on telling him something.

"You have something to say Mister Morris?" Reddy cocked and eyebrow at him.

"Sir, several transports had entered this system before we hid in a low orbit, and several after. Many were either damaged or destroyed before we could tell them to run off. It seems that in our haste to send the earlier message we sent it with a Priority One encoding package, only extremely important Starfleet vessels would have been able to legally know what it said."

"I want you to personally see that that is addressed as soon as we are on stand down."

"Yes sir, I will. But there is a series of communications relays around the planet, we can hit enough of them en route before we go to Warp. It would be much more effective than a simple transmission." Morris spoke with respect and stood like an actual officer.

Reddy looked straight ahead. "Is that true, Navigation?"

Potter checker her panel and swung her chair around. "Yes sir, the course is already laid in."

"Set course, ahead full impulse power." He looked at Morris. "Compose the package, make haste Mister Morris."

The replacement navigator, a sergeant, stood beside the lift acting like security. Reddy cast an eye at them. "Sergeant!" the man came to attention. "Do you know the basics of being a tactical officer?"

"Only what they taught us in basic sir, sketchy at best." He had a heavy Indian accent, it went well with his skin.

"Very well, be my Taco and I'll make you a Specialist."

A broad grin split his face and he moved to where Flores would have been stationed.

"Two minutes until we reach the first comm relay sir." Potter reported.

Reddy nodded, his eyes were focused on the screen, he was searching the stars for any Borg ship. A realization struck him. "Mister Morris, if the Borg aren't here?"

Morris straightened. "They may very well be on our course sir, but I believe they are currently in the wake of the sunset sir, we should be able to slip away without them catching us, or reverse our course."

Reddy said nothing, he continued to stare out the window at the planet's horizon passing below him, he could see the flash of a comm array ahead. They were withing range soon, it was simple sending the data package and having the relay transmit at maximum range. They passed the second and were right on top of the third relay when the Taco called out. (Tactical Officer = Taco)

It was too late, _Walker_ shook and the bridge crew was shaken from their seats as the mass of a Borg Cube swung into the view. "Evasive action! Reverse course and move away at maximum speed!" the screen swung away as the ship shook again. Reddy pressed the button on his panel that ordered a damage report from all departments.

"Sir, heavy damage to engines and starboard side, Ensign Zarva reports that we do not have Warp capability." the Taco stated.

Reddy swore under his breath, trying to keep his outside self calm. "Very well, have damage control parties report to Zarva and Ensign Triss."

"Course reversed sir, enemy is at. . .five kilometers and closing. They have an escort coming up from behind and a squadron of Probes are trying to head us off." Potter reported, leaning close over her controls and trying to avoid phasers and torpedo fire in something not built for it.

"Mister Arripak, I need every ounce of power in my engines right now, and tell the Chief to get my Warp drive working, now!" Arripak quickly reported that he had all power possible in the engines, even the lights on the bridge went down. The enemy was backing off some but it was only a matter of time before they would catch up. The oncoming Probes and Spheres didn't help the situation.

Reddy kept his face even, but on the inside he was once again feeling nervous and he strained to prevent his fingers from drumming his arm rest. "Lay us away at out best possible course Miss Potter."


	24. Episode 1: Part 10

One again I bring you the waste of my time. Literally, I almost do nothing but write STO fanfiction when I can't play STO. (Please give me feedback guys before I go crazy because I didn't get it!"

 **Part 10: USS** ** _Kolibri_**

Archie coughed and slid, ungracefully, down an access hatch and unto the deck below. He lay there for several seconds, coughing in the stench of gas and low pressure of the lowest parts of the hull. Here was where the heavier and more toxic gases were, one deck more and he could die. Thankfully the hatch to the auxiliary batteries room was only a few yards away.

Archie pulled himself to his feet, dragging and heaving, breath gasping, and stumbled towards the manual door. He hung unto the wheel that he had to turn to loosen the locks and used his weight to spin the wheel until the door opened, he worked and after an eternity had it swung wide. Trying to step through the hatch he fell and rolled down the grated stairs and slammed his shoulder against a large, towering, object. He coughed and lay there.

Archie felt his eyes grow heavy, they wanted to shut, send him to sleep so that he could escape this cold and acrid world. But he fought, and slowly flipped over and crawled until he found and panel. He pulled himself up, fumbled the command chip into a slot and slammed it home. He once again tripped around the battery until he found the handcrank.

He had little energy left, his bones were sore and his eyes heavy, lungs coughing up something bloody now, his hearing consumed by a roaring of blood in his ears. He found the crank, it was simply a handhold that spun around and around and had to be moved by the torque of one's hand. Archie grabbed it, slipped, and fell to the ground hard.

He couldn't think straight, a voice was entering his head and saying that he was a load master and a Guard Captain, he didn't need to bloody do this, he had subordinates for that. He lay on the ground, thinking: they'll send someone down to get the job done soon, then I can retire and go back to my bed. When the thought of his bed came to mind, so did Fryfoe. She would be waiting, waiting and most likely ready for him when he arrived, whether he was fully awake or not, she'd be ready. If he didn't get to her before he fell asleep she'd be ready for him when he awoke. That was what he always had liked about her, she had always been willing and eager to please. Even when she had a stowaway with no knowledge of the English language she had always followed him, wanted him to approve what she did. He liked that in someone, but he liked someone who could go without approval, and still do work to their best ability, even more. Even still, he wanted to be beside her now.

He realized that whoever the lazy people under him were, they weren't coming to help him—he'd yell at them later—and the whole job had to be done by him. Archie hauled himself up to his knees and slowly forced his body to heed and turn the crank. After a few turns he heard a pop and a buzz. The battery began to warm up and run. He made his way around to the console and told it to follow the command chip's protocol. The screen went to the running screen and he fell back against the adjacent battery. He heard as the buzz grew louder and before long felt a tiny breeze and the beautiful sweet smell of fresh air.

Then he passed out.

He woke to see a soft, and just barely tanned, Vulcan face over him, the floor behind his back was the soft carpet of the outside hallway and the roaring in his ears had fully subsided. After a few seconds his senses came to him and he realized reality. All in one massive wave the whole situation came to him and he was off the floor in a matter of seconds.

He rocked about as he was struck by the symptoms of acting so quick and looked at Sakup. "Time hack." he asked.

"Fifteen minutes since you entered the hole." It was still dark in the hall, the only light came from the emergency lights.

Milo came from the nearby hatch. "Well done, Commander. We've got emergency power and Dan is loading the groups onto the ship."

Archie coughed and started forward, the _Nova-_ class was almost exactly like the _Rhode Island-_ class on the outside, but her hallways were slightly different, with Milo's directions he ran into Silva and Dan loading the civilians through the starboard airlock. Silva was happy to see his captain.

"How many?" Archie asked the man.

"About two hundred in all, we still have a few groups coming in." his face went down. "Archie they overran us at the Embassy, we couldn't stick around to help Thomson."

"Is he dead?" Archie felt his face become one of desparation.

"We don't know, we had to pull out quickly, they were following us for a distance but we managed to throw them off. The rendezvous is only a mile from here. We only have a few groups left." he bit his lip. "No sign of your wife sir."

Archie nodded, he looked at Dan. "Can you get this bus moving?"

Dan, took Milo's pad and did some sifting through data. "I need to personally look at the engines, but the problem is that we won't know if they'll achieve escape velocity until we start them up."

"Do what you can." Archie tasked them to different job, Sakup and Milo would go to the bridge to start the engines while Silva continued to direct civilian traffic.

Archie walked outside and stood a couple yards away where Call was sitting, quite rebelliously, on a rock, rubbing his shoulder. Archie kicked his feet as he approached and put his hands in his pockets.

"Sorry about what I did Maj, I couldn't let you go down there."

Maj rubbed his shoulder still, bending his head to relieve a strain in his neck, eyes distant. "You remind of those stories about James Kirk and Jean Picard. Always the man who does his own work, never orders people to do something he won't." He looked up at Archie. "I know that's a good trait, but it's a bad one." He sighed. "I've been married three times you know, three wives, all different races. I always said I was going to settle down with a good human girl, get a steady job that would send me home each night. The biggest thing was I wanted a little bundle of joy I could smile at every night." He stood and brushed scraps of moss from the seat of his pants. "And I had that, _had._ Archie, if we get off this rock I'm gonna follow you just like I did my old Chief, hell and back. And I want you to know that I have nothing to lose, so I don't care if you told me to shoot myself, I'll do the job."

Archie nodded slowly, he had never been someone to react quickly to a major change, he was slowly coming to realize how bad things were becoming. "Maj—" he was cut off my a loud whoosh nearby. He spun to see the blue light of a transporter disappear and leave a Starfleet away team standing in full kit. Most of the team had yellow stripes on their uniforms.

As per usual when first beaming down they took a second to look around and seemed surprised by the amount of people in the area, one turned and informed the party about the two figures directly behind them. What appeared to be the two leaders of the group, one in a Starfleet cadet's uniform, the other a full Lieutenant, walked up to them.

"About time Starfleet showed up, how many ships did you bring?" Maj said sarcastically.

The first, a woman almost to her forties, didn't show any signs of being friendly. "Lieutenant of Operations Louis Brikkars, USS _Walker_." She nodded to the cadet at her right. "Ensign Sarah Triss, Head Operations Officer. And you gentlemen."

"Well I'm the ever so humble Chief Major Call, at your service." Maj made an elegant and flamboyant move of taking off an imaginary hat and bowing.

Archie shook his head. "Archibald Sumner, Starfleet Lieutenant Commander, retired."

Brikkars straightened and saluted. "Sir!"

Archie responded with his own salute. "What are you equipped for LT?" he asked her.

"Engineers sir, we thought no one knew about this ship. Apparently we were wrong."

Archie cast a glance at Call. "Neither did I two hours ago, I'll give you a sitrep Brikkars." He straightened and waited for the entire group to gather around. "Borg have landed and are patrolling the mountains, we can't start the ship up without alerting them to our presence. So, we've been loading on all the souls we can fit before we try and start the engines. I'd like it if you sent your security officers with some of my men to assist in forming and getting the remaining groups up the mountain, and for your engineers to board the ship and get her ready to make way."

Brikkars turned and pointed to an Andorian and Ensign Triss. She looked at Archie for instruction. "You should know your way around the ship, I needn't tell you." Archie said. They raced off towards the stream of civilians going into the starboard airlock. One of the tactical officers was a Tellerite and seemed to be the senior of the two, Archie pointed out a man jogging down the slope. "That's Lieutenant Ree, attach yourself to him." The two moved off and joined the man as he walked down the slope.

"What do you want me to do?" Brikkars asked.

"What's your specialty?" Archie inquired.

"Loadmaster."

Archie smiled, her serious and straightforward speech was already reminding him of when he had been a loadmaster. "Well then, you can help load the civilians aboard, I want them packed in to the maximum."

Brikkars saluted and ran off. Archie was left alone when Call ran to join a group of militiamen heading down the path. Archie's lungs hurt from the inhalation of the gases of the lower decks. He sat on the rock that Call had been on and took a second to breath.

Everyone was running, he thought, in my days we never ran. Archie had served most of his career under an Englishman, who whenever the situation became tense he would be as calm as a bubbling brook. Archie could still remember the man, standing on the bridge with his hands clasped behind the small of his back and casually talking as if it were all a game. "I do say m'lads, we appear to be under attack." he would say. He was never arrogant in his calmness, or orders, he was simple calm and composed, even if they were suddenly jumped by a Klingon fleet his commands would be smooth and punctuated by phrases like "If you please" or "on your own time, good chap." Even now Archie imagined he was looking through a simulation of the man's eyes. He stared out and watched civilians and militiamen sprinting about. Another group coming up the path, men pushing the civilians into line and shouting loud commands. Archie's communicator chirped and he pulled it out. It wasLieutenant Ree.

"We've got a problem, a group just informed me that it's pinned down about two miles away, and I can't deploy my men in that direction because of their experience. I could send the two Starfleet officers, but they asked that their team lead, a Lieutenant Brikkars, be sent to help them." His voice was shaky, two miles wasn't much for a well trained group, but the idea of meeting a Borg combat team was not a good one. Archie knew that even the Starfleet officers would be afraid of meeting the Borg, which was why they wanted Brikkars with them.

"Very well Lieutenant, I'll send Brikkars down quickly enough, how many groups are left?"

"Just the one sir, I'm about to take the gathered group up myself and leave a squad behind."

Archie closed the line and strolled off to find Brikkars, she was directing the traffic to the rearward spaces from the threshold of the starboard airlock. He told her to go down and was about to follow when Charley Zengilowski intercepted him and dragged him past the press of refugees and up to a deck above to where a turbolift door was pried open with a rope ladder hanging down. He conquered the top to gaze upon a dusty and plastic covered bridge.

A feeling of nostalgia came over him, he strolled, trying hard not to run, over to where the command chair was built on the starboard side of a command console, with the executive chair on the port side, and slowly drew the plastic covering aside until it exposed the brown tinted leather of the chair. Running his fingers across the seat showed that it's brown color came from dust. He sat nonetheless and was caught up in a moment of imaginary thought. A hard working crew toiled about him while he sat and watched the stars flying past at warp. A smile broke on his face until he sneezed.

Archie stood, a grin as broad as his shoulders, and faced Charley standing in the doorway. "Chuck my lad," he said. "find me a bridge crew."


	25. Episode 1: Part 11

Once again, I could be doing more productive stuff, but I'm posting another chapter before I take a break this weekend.

 **Part 11: USS** ** _Kolibri_**

"Sciences and Engineering reports that we are go to fire up the main batteries as well as our engines." Charley Zengilowski had several communicator's set up on the console of his comms station. He had once been a communications specialist on a cargo ship and had the needed expertise to manage the station.

Archie stared out the main viewport. "What about Lieutenant Brikkars and company?"

"Five minutes sir, she says she may be pursued by Borg and believes that we will need to fire the engines prematurely to prevent us from being boarded."

Archie looked at where Silva paced around the bridge, casually looking over the shoulder of crew members and seeing if they were working, even if he had no idea how to perform the simplest of actions on _Kolibri's_ computers. "Very well, fire up engines when you are ready Mister Glodis." A massive Tellarite, almost eight feet tall and muscular to the point of wrestling an Aehallh worm. The big man punched a few keys with his massive fingers and brought battery power to his control panel. The lights on the panels slowly turned on, going from red to green and finally bringing the whole section they were associated with online. A little over a minutes saw the entire bridge alight and the overheads coming on.

"Engines coming online, parameters green." a young Klingon-Human, almost a fifteen in human years, held down the engineering station. He waited for a minute then slapped his panel. "Engines online! All systems green, parameters are within seventy percent efficiency!"

Archie didn't have to look at a face, every face had a smile on it. They were about to pull a one hundred twenty-seven meter long ex-Federation science vessel from a mountain and defy the Borg. For the moment the idea of death became a distant thought.

Zengilowski's hands were lighting as he checked and modified the communications console to his liking. He placed in his ear code and bent his head suddenly. He spun his chair. "Commander? I just received a message from Lieutenant Brikkars and her team. They have delivered the final group and are holding a choke point near the entrance to the clearing. She is asking that you prepare the ship's defenses before she pulls her team back."

Archie stood, he took an earpiece from the hatch in the side of his chair and went up the staboard ladder. _Kolibri_ , unlike most _Nova-_ class vessels, had a ladder on the starboard side, in place of a door that would commonly take you straight to the surrounding decks, that went up to an observation deck that was an arched glass circle around the glass dome of the bridge. Archie went up the ladder and looked out to starboard. Around the mass of the ship he could see the flash of weapons fire and the shapes of his militia teams. He placed the earpiece in his right ear.

"Charley, get me Milo and Dan." a second later Dan's voice came into the earpiece. "Dan, how long until we can get off the ground? And what about shields."

"We can be off the ground on maneuvering thrusters in a minute, I have my men working on that now. Shields is a slightly harder thing to manage; the deflectors are corroded and old, much like our phaser weapons, and I don't know if I can get them working." he paused. "Another problem, now that I think of it, will be breaking through the growth above us. It's not bad on the main hull, but the secondary has been in the ground for seven years ya know. I tasked some men to check the hull and they found a few very thick root systems in the outermost corridors. Not going to be pretty when they get ripped out."

"Get a few men down there with phasers, they can, at least, try to cut the roots off from the source outside the hull. Either way I want us off the ground in five minutes."

Dan was about to say something about such a time being impossible but Archie closed the channel before he could finished the first phrase. He had a panel similar to the one between his and the First Officer's chair, he pressed the tactical station call. A deep yet old voice responded, it was Ruzngu. "Ruzngu, what about our weapons?" he asked.

"Not much to say sir, other than the torpedoes have lost their explosives, and the phasers are too corroded to work. Phasers would take some work but I don't have anyone experienced enough know how to replace a conductor dish, and out torpedoes aren't going to detonate on impact." Archie hadn't known Ruzngu had any experience with weapons systems.

"That's okay, I don't plan to fight but we can use the torpedoes as bullets if we have to." He closed the channel and called up Sciences. "Someone tell me they know how to get our Warp engine running please."

Milo's voice came on. "Milo here, I'm down here with a Starfleet engineer, says she can actually get it running but not well. We take a heavy hit in our engines and we can lose the Warp One point nothing we'll be struggling to get."

"Very well, carry on sergeant." he switched over to his comms channel that had been hailed. "Go ahead Charley."

"Sir, thrusters are ready to fire, we can start them up and try to break free on your command sir."

"Very well tell helm to get ready and do so on my command—" the ship shook as a green bolt exploded against the saucer. "Damage report!"

"Please hold." a brief moment of breath and a low curse. "Nothing much, a militiaman just reported that the Borg have set up a kind of turret that is targeting us, he says they'll try to clear the area."

"No!" Archie ordered. "I want them back on board now, have the engines begin firing as soon as they are aboard."

"Yes sir." Charley cut the channel.

Archie saw the fire die away and figures grow as they sprinted to the area. He turned and went down the ladder unto the bridge, he never noticed the single phaser rifle that was still holing it's position.

Louis Brikkars had once said, to a friend, that if she was asked to sacrifice she'd spit in the person's face and be a selfish brat. Disruptor fire bracketed her position, her only ability to fire was through a naturally formed rock hole that was too small for a shot to be accurately fired through. Her beam rifle cut at drone after drone, occasionally successfully taking one to the ground. The militiamen had left here, all but one had fled. The one now crawled up from where he had noticed her not following.

"LT we have to go!" he yelled.

Louis stuck the barrel of her rifle though the hole and fired blind, addressing the man. "Go, I'll hold them off."

He was beside her and laying down a suppressive barrage with his rifle. "Now's not the time for gallant bravery LT. Come on before I make you." he met her eyes with the same glare she had fixed on him.

Louis dropped her rifle and drew her pistol, grabbing the man's collar and placing the discharge point of the phaser to his jaw. "I'll be right behind you, we can't take off with them crowding us like this, and now you'll never make it without covering fire."

The man was nervous, she could tell by his breath and his head that twitched and gazed at the advancing Borg. He nodded, biting his lip. He's too young, Louis thought, he'd never have stayed, he wants to be the hero. He crawled a few yards off then stood and ran. He left his rifle for Louis, who slipped the weapons over the top of the rock and spread the area with fire.

Louis ducked down again when the energy cells in the weapons ran out. He tossed her last cell into the rifle and drew her pistol. She opened the power plate and took a hairpin from the bun on the back her head. Shaking her hair down she carefully used the pin to move wire's about and produce an energy buildup. When treated right, a phaser pistol with an overcharged energy cell and proper fuel, which was the surplus of mortars that the Borg were setting up to shell _Kolibri_ and her position, she could send this clearing and possible a hundred extra yards alight. It was all about timing, once she threw the weapon at the mortars she'd have only have two minutes before the weapon went critical and blew up. She finished the rigging and twisted around unto her knee. Taking her rifle in one hand she crouched and tossed the weapon through the air. It twirled and flew well from her baseball strengthened arm.

Louis didn't stay to watch is land. She was up and running, a hailstorm of fire from the airlock covered her charge as she felt the heat of disruptors at her heels. A mortar exploded to her left and she veered right, twisted from the hot dirt and shrapnel that flew through the air.

Pain and heat became of her back suddenly. A person not so tuned to piercing pain would have fainted and fallen over, Louis stumbled on and tripped over a stone before she hit the ground.

Lieutenant Ree watched as the person he had only wanted to save died. His position was struck by fire, two men were laid flat by the heavy long range storm. He drew them back into the ship. As the door began to close he noticed the lieutenant move, begin to rise and roll over. As he advanced to help a burly Sergeant of the Guard grabbed him and held him back and ordered the door closed.

"She's not dead!" he screamed.

"She is to us lad, just let her go and report to the captain on our situation." Just as the last inches of the door closed, a well placed shot came through and clipped a man's leg. The sergeant got in Ree's face. "GO!" he bellowed.

Louis lay on her back and tried to forget the pain, a loud screech filled her ears and she felt her eyes grow heavy. Her last thoughts were of the little Pakled boy who had been the janitor for the area that her quarters were situated in. He always seemed nice, and for one time she had wanted to know him. She'd do that as soon as she got back to _Walker_.

The overloaded pistol Lieutenant Louis Brikkars, USS _Walker_ , Officer of Operations, had thrown landed on five yards from the ready ammunition the Borg had beamed in to bombard the _Kolibri's_ engine section and prevent her form take off. As _Kolibri_ separated from the ground that had embraced her for seven years the improvised went off and one piece of shrapnel, a piece of the discharge point, punctured the side of a mortar bomb and set off the packed explosive inside. It's detonation set off the sixty other bombs nearby and flung them across the area. The explosive blasts shook _Kolibri_ as she became her own ship again and gained the clearing top, it almost propelled her up.

At that moment Lieutenant Ree stepped unto the bridge, dirt covered and tired from the run up from the starboard airlock. His eyes began to droop as he stood on the bridge with his hands all but windmilling in wonder of what to do.

"Ree, what the hell was that?" Archie asked.

Ree's head slowly came up from where it had been staring blankly at the floor. "That was a Starfleet woman." He dropped from exhaustion, Silva caught him and realized that blood was streaming from his lower back and he was growing cold.

Archie ordered him to sickbay, Silva was strong enough to carry him down the ladder and all the way there.

"We've reached the mountain top sir, engines holding steady." Glodis stated.

"Thank you mister Glodis, please, take us away and up at maximum impulse power." Archie sat and crossed his legs. He banished the thought of Lieutenant Brikkars and set to the more important task.

Getting the two hundred odd lives, that he had already saved once, out of the system and too safety.


	26. Episode 1: Part 12

Yeehaw! Managed to get the 'battle' in before I took the weekend off! See y'all guys whenever the next story comes out next week!

 **Part 12: USS** ** _Walker_**

Reddy visibly shivered this time as another Borg plasma torpedo slammed against his hull. They had lay away at best possible speed and they warp drives specially protected while the rest of the hull suffered. Neither worked, Zarva reported that another warp breach had opened just as the last was repaired. They were trying their best to manage, weapons focusing on the smaller Probes, yet still their shields were seconds from being down, even as each man held their station Reddy began to want them gone, for all six hundred souls he had aboard to be whizzed off and left somewhere safe. He didn't care if he went with them, he only wanted the sparks and shaking to stop. The ship shook roughly again.

"Hull breech! Port crew quarters, went through all decks!" T'Vrell reported.

Reddy swore. "Morris! Anything good?"

"There's a set of fast moving ships inbound, but they're coming from the direction of Pollux IV."

Nothing was good, his shields were seconds from being down, his weapons doing nothing, and he wasn't even drawing ahead of a great lumbering _Cube_. He felt like a blaze of glory would be an understatement when this ship went. For a simple second Reddy had a thought that was horribly humorous, he had always thought of how he wanted to see first hand what it looked like when a Federation ship blew up in a chain, he realized now he'd get to see it firsthand.

"My god." the Taco cried. "Enemy Cube is arming a torpedo barrage, full explosive."

Reddy swore louder. "Aft weapons hold, prepare to fire on targets."

There was second's pause. "Enemy is firing!"

"Weapons, full cycle!" A massive spread of greenish orbs leaped from the Cube, slowly making their way toward _Walker_.

In a moment the torpedoes were engaged by the weapons, all the weapons, _Walker_ could bring to bare. Reddy watched as the weapons closed the gap, at three kilometers the number was reduced to four torpedoes, at one kilometer it was a single. It was painstakingly slow as it closed the final yard and exploded before it even hit the shield. The resulting blast was hard enough to rock the ship and pitch Reddy from his seat. Sparks flew yet Morris let out a happy screech.

"Ha!" he laughed. "Five Starfleet vessels on sensors, vessels _Defiant_ , _Armitage_ , _Renown_ , _Khitomer_ , and _Chillingsworth_ have all engaged the Borg!" He stopped and checked another beep on his screen. "Sir, another ship. . .USS _Kolibri_ is offering assistance!"

A massive grin spread across Reddy's face as he stood and was filled with exhilaration. He jumped. "Assistance accepted, weapons focus on the Cube. Request that all ships do the same." He jumped again and pumped a fist in the air.

Soon the facing side of the Cube was hidden by phaser beams and torpedo detonations. Reddy stepped forward and tapped his feet. The ships predicted the turn of the Cube, which was coutnerclockwise to their position, and followed to keep the facing in their sights. With them aligned with broadsides facing the target it was amazing spectacle of light and fire.

Archie leaned on his tactical room button. "Ruzngu, torps or phasers?"

"Torps basically as rocks moving way to fast for comfort, phasers are no go." his old voice came back.

"How much will it take to the phasers to go?" Archie watched, they had intended to go straight up and head straight for Earth but a blockade of two Borg Cubes and their consorts had made them wave off towards the light side and _Walker_.

"If we fire, them, without fixing the dishes and all the wires involved, we could easily blow the whole system and be in drydock for a week." Ruzngu was always casual when he spoke, his voice was now barely condescending.

Archie realized that they were almost in effective range and didn't have time to argue, they could lay up in dock for as long as they needed to if the ship survived. "Ruzngu, I want those phasers fired as long as they don't disable this ship. You hear?"

"Aye, sir, I'll have them ready by the time we join the battle group."

They pushed on, the Starfleet ships had formed a line and were heading straight towards _Kolibri_ as they followed the spin of the Borg Cube. Already Archie could see their weapons beginning to take their toll on the monster.

"Distance to firing range, three kilometers, weapons ready to fire on your command sir." Glodis stated, most ships had two men at the helm, one flew while the other operated weapons and acted as navigation, yet with the single seat directly before the screen Glodis had full control of the ship and it's weapons if he chose.

"Weapons to auto control, Mister Ruzngu may fire as he sees fit."

 _Kolibri_ joined the battle line and swung around above the ships and gave her own fire. She had eleven banks and could focus six at a time, her others were switched over to a local control and ordered to engage Borg Probes trying to catch the ships in a pincer.

Phaser and disruptor fire formed a spider web as the full force of the Federation cruisers and escorts lit space with their fury and were responded to by the sickly green fire of Borg weapons. The Federation held itself steady, it's port side weapons engaging the Cube while the starboard warned other Probes and Spheres not to tempt fate. Occasionally a bow would swing in to ease the attack of a torpedo. The spectacle was amazing for a casual viewer, there were none, yet before long the heavy fire of both sides began to wear the opponents out.

Lieutenant Commander Samantha O'Connell ordered her ship to heave about to starboard, she was the last ship in line and her shields were taking to much fire from the Probes following her. "Assign targets, weapons fire on Alpha One." the weapons picked a Probe and lit the space between them with fire. Sam's ship had been quickly refit with several more powerful longer ranged cannons, much like the weapons previously fitted on the _Defiant_ , that were mounted fore and aft and could swing one hundred eighty degree. They lines the target and began to pound it with their fierce intensity.

As the ship succumbed to her power she realized how different this was, sitting almost relaxed in her chair she watched the battle and her crew perform as if they were veterans. She watched as the another Probe tried to pull away as the powerful weapons cut at it, this one was under the full broadside at a close enough range that both sets of cannons could fire at their target. As they took something much to small for what they were giving, Sam watched as the Phaser cut through the forward section.

"Enemy going critical, their warp core is overloading."

"Pull us away and back to the battle line." the ship swung around and shook as they were propelled by the blast of the Probe's engines. Ahead of them was where the ships had broken up and were spreading.

"Tactical, report!"

Lieutenant (Junior Grade) Margret Shay reported. "Enemy Cube is losing power, I'm detecting explosions from her inside, she's collapsing." Shay's head dropped. "Captain Vo'Lok is ordering that we break away and clear the blast radius. The enemy's shields are completely down."

"Torpedoes engage, all tubes fire as loaded."

The group pulled away, the space between them and the cube filled with torpedoes. The Cube detonated, her hull exploding outward, the debris rocketed outwards, a large chunk actually slammed against the _Defiant_ and was deflected by her shields, the captain had a word or two to say about that.

The consorts pulled away, _Khitomer_ reported that many more Borg ships were entering the system and that they were forming a blockade around the planet.

"Sir, Captain Vo'Lok is hailing us." T'Vrell announced. Reddy told her to put on the mainscreen.

Vo'Lok appeared on the screen. "Lieutenant, I congratulate you, once again you have impressed me." he spoke in his usual

"You saved us sir, you impressed me. How did you make it away from Pollux four?" Reddy asked, his dislike of the Vulcan was temporarily hidden by exhilaration and curiosity.

"We were lucky, out teams managed to blindly warp _Khitomer_ from the system and we followed. These were the closest ships, except _Kolibri_ of course."

Morris drew Reddy's attention. He informed him that the message was a conference one, Reddy ordered that the conference panel be exposed. A long line of display's flipped from the wall above the main scree and exposed the faces of the other ships in the small fleet.

"I love the stories lads, but we appear to have a crap ton of Borg inbound, more than just a single Cube by the way." the voice of Captain James Kurland from the USS _Defiant_ was an unexpected but welcome voice.

"I concur, I have two hundred civilians and no shields, I'd like permission to return to Earth Spacedock and off load my passengers." Another, middle aged with brown hair and a shadow of a beard on his face. He wasn't in a Starfleet uniform but the readout at the bottom of the screen reported that he was aboard the USS _Kolibri_.

" _Kolibri_ , please identify yourself." Vo'Lok ordered.

He straightened. "Lieutenant Commander Archibald Sumner, retired, USS _Kolibri_."

"And how did you come in possession of this craft?" Reddy couldn't help but feel his face twitch in anger at the questioning he was witnessing.

"It had been left in the mountains when the Iota region was finally settled. We managed to pull it from the ground and get away." He looked offscreen, "We have _Walker_ to thank for sending down several officers, we have them and Operations Officer Sarah Triss on board. I'm sorry to report that Lieutenant Brikkars didn't make it."

Reddy felt his heart go down. _Walker_ had had a cadre of officers who were experienced and had helped the crew along since the First, yet now he had lost another of the few that had helped build this crew. He nodded and was cut off by Captain Vo'Lok.

"Sacrifice is something we must do in Starfleet, _Kolibri_ you will return to spacedock escorted by _Chillingsworth_ and offload you passengers. You will transfer control of the ship to authorities once done. Lieutenant Reddy, you and _Walker_ will come with this squadron as we attempt to muster a fleet near the Una System."

Reddy stopped him. "Sir, I've taken heavy damage and have some four hundred refugees aboard, I'd like permission to escort _Kolibri_ back to Earth and offload my passengers." When Vo'Lok asked why he insisted Reddy had to clasp his hands behind his back squeeze them to keep from screaming at the Vulcan. His voice was more irritated now. "The life support systems of my ship will only keep the air clean enough for efficient operation for the next two hours, it will become life threatening less than an hour after."

Although his Vulcan features were meant to hide it, Vo'Lok was obviously angered by the delivery of the comment, which was very matter-of-factly. "Very well, _Chillingsworth_ will come with us and you will escort the _Kolibri_. Good luck all."

The ships formed into their individual group and left the system as quickly as they could. The battle group going to the Una system took off at maximum warp while the two remaining ships, faulty warp cores and full of refugees, limped away towards earth at a meager Warp Factor 1. Less than thirty seconds after they left the system more Borg Cube's arrived alongside more assimilation devices, by now the entire atmosphere was toxic, no one on surface, unless deep underground in a mine, was unassimilated.


	27. Episode 1: Part 13 (Conclusion)

**Part 13: Earth Spacedock, Office of Rear Admiral Jorel Quinn.**

Once again three members of the _Walker's_ crew stood before the desk of Admiral Quinn, the white Trillian head was once again bent over an after action report as well as several records from other ships. Amazingly, yet unknown to all but the admiral, a record of _Kolibri's_ actions were on his desk, neatly stacked to the side while he went through the report Reddy had barely managed to complete between docking _Walker_ and offloading refugees with a total of thirty seconds before the air aboard _Walker_ began to effect operations. Many of his crew had been dizzy and lightheaded before the ship was clear and Zarva had stated that she almost blew the whole rig trying to get enough air back into the ship to make it safe.

All in all, _Walker_ was fine, she had lost five crew to enemy contact, including the unfortunate incident of Lieutenant Brikkars, and had around seven serious injuries that thankfully did not take crew off the ship. They had logged four confirmed Klingon ships destroyed and had been informed that the Bird-of-prey that had saved them when they engaged the first Probe had not been KDF.

As the clock struck while they stood before the Admiral it was six hours since _Walker_ had changed course to engage Klingons in the Pollux system, making it around an hour since they had docked. Due to the dark interior of Admiral Quinn's office, the present officers felt as though it was extremely late.

After some time, Quinn looked up and at Elisa Flores, standing alongside Ash Potter, three paces behind Reddy. "Flores, when your commander suggested that you engage Klingons in the Pollux system, you agreed?"

Flores came to attention and swallowed. "Yes sir, I understood that the believed ambush area was along a populated route, it is possible that the Klingons could have caught several ships unawares in that area."

"And you supported him going down to surface of Vega IX?"

"Not entirely sir, but his motives were logical and seemed to be the best at the time."

Quinn studied the guide some more, he seemed to consider a question but held it back, he stood and walked around behind Reddy. "Ensign Flores, Ensign Potter, you are dismissed." They came to attention and left the room in a very formal manner. Quinn stepped around and sat on the leading edge of his desk. "Be at ease Mister Reddy." he shuffled through the papers. "Your performance was admirable Lieutenant, right up until you punched your First Officer." He shook his head. "I understand your reasons, but no captain has reason to physically assault any member of his crew in that manner. Flores pulled you from the planet without permission, but she saved you, for that you can be thankful to see Earth. Biggest thing is that you survived, which last I checked was a lot for raw recruits in a light cruiser." Quinn's eyes were sleepy and his words were barely slurred. "I'm not having charges pressed on you mainly because I had a private talk with Flores and she freed you of any blame for the thrown punches. I want you to apologize to her for one, then I want you to tend to your crew and get your ship up to strength before you give them rest."

"What of Vega sir? Shouldn't we be deployed there?" Reddy cocked his head to the side.

Quinn nodded slowly. "If needed, Captain Vo'Lok untilized the resources you left him and successfully isolated the system using everything from a number of Orion radicals to Andorian soldiers. He has managed to set up a protection grid so we have a short time before we move on the system and weed the Borg out."

"And of Pollux IV?"

Once again Quinn nodded tiredly. "Captain Keln explored that system, his ship successfully managed to sneak in and destroy the transwarp conduit, that only leaves the Borg in the Vega System to deal with. We have strengthened our forces on the Borg borders though, and asked that the Romulan Star Empire and Klingons do the same." He gave a massive yawn. "The offensive will not be today or tomorrow, so I suggest you use the time wisely." He rubbed his eyes. "You're dismissed, get out so I can go and sleep, finally."

Reddy came to attention and was leaving the room when Quinn called him back. The man had a small award box in his hand that he tossed across the room to Reddy, who caught it with expert skill. "I almost forgot, I'll be over sometime for the official ceremony, in the mean time you have the full authority it provides."

Reddy grinned and stepped from the room, he opened it, half expecting to see the insignia of a Lieutenant his face burst as he spotted the triple squares, one with a black center and a gold box around the edge, of a Lieutenant Commander. He stared at the closed door to Quinn's office, he felt as if he was going everywhere at once. He all but skipped down the hall as he realized that he was keeping his command.

Archie stood before a very stoic Rear Admiral, he had never met the man, nor heard of him, but the man had obviously heard of him. He finally, after much time observing the after action report of the _Kolibri_ , admit how he did.

"I was in your graduation cadre, never really met you, just admired your ability to command a group and not be afraid of being a sergeant, even as an officer. I also heard why you quite, and so close to your first command." He sucked his cheek. "I'm sorry about your family Archie, I had an aide go through the names of every refugee that has been reported to Starfleet, neither has turned up."

Archie had nothing to say, the man went back to the files and soon became apparent that he had been stalling when another man entered the room. "Sorry I'm late Pal, this case was particularly difficult for the Commission to resolve." the Vice Admiral took the man's place behind the desk, the Rear Admiral introduced him.

"Mister Sumner, this is Vice Admiral Shawns, head of the Federation Starfleet Ship Charter." He stepped off to the side and stood with his hands clasped behind his back.

The Admiral put on a pair of square framed glasses and shuffled through a file he brought with him. "I was just in a meeting concerning with the Federal Ship Chartering Commission concerning you, you would not believe the trouble you've made showing up in a fully operational ship full of refugees."

Archie gave a questioning look. "Pardon sir?"

Shawns laughed. "You're a retired Starfleet officer with about thirty retired Starfleet personnel aboard a ship that hasn't moved in seven or eight years, and helped destroy a Borg Cube. Quite frankly, you've surprised us and floated a ship that we had forgotten." he paused. "The fact is, Mister Sumner, is that we are a little short of combat ready ships now that there is a Borg occupation going on in the Vega System, it was confirmed several hours ago that all other colonies in the system have been, or begun to be, assimilated, and the authorities assigned to commandeer and evaluate your ship report that it can be ready for combat in less than a week, which is quicker than we could process the civilians on board and replace them with experienced crewmen. Which is why I convinced the Commission Board to let me make a deal with you."

Archie was confused, he had been under the idea that the entire group aboard was to be transported off and handed over to Federation services. Instead it had been requested that only complete families and anyone willing to leave, as well as critically wounded beings, be taken to Federation facilities while the rest remained aboard. He had assumed this had been concerning the amount of refugees that _Walker_ had unloaded, but now it seemed as though Starfleet had a different plan for _Kolibri_. "A deal sir?" He asked cautiously.

Shawns stood and leaned against the front of his desk. "We want you to keep _Kolibri._ " he smiled at what must have been a surprised face from Archie. "You have the proper expertise to command her, in fact you were close to a command yourself before you retired, and we can't pull together a crew to man a _Nova_ -class let alone find a qualified captain not filling an already important role. The idea is that you know what you're doing, obviously since you survived Vega IX, and with a little work we have a ship full of people from all kinds of occupations." he shifted. "In truth, we want something a little different from the mainstream Starfleet."

Archie was still confused. "We're civilians sir, most of us just wanted to settle down, that's why we were on Vega. And isn't there a massive amount of regulations about Starfleet commissioned ships being given to civilians and none Starfleet personnel?"

"You forget, these orders come from the Federal Charter, much different from the Starfleet Commission. For several months they have been pushing for Starfleet to commission ships for Starfleet's original goal, to seek out new life forms and civilizations. The biggie is that most are joining with the Vulcans if they want to explore, since mostly all Starfleet wants to do right now is start a war with the Klingons so we have a real reason to build up our combat fleet, and Commission wants ships for exploration."

Archie dipped his head for a moment. "Admiral, the _Nova-_ class is designed as a short range exploration craft—"

"A young Lieutenant made that very clear at the Commission, and we fully understand, the point is that we want your ship commissioned with it's current crew, which is one that is none militaristic, and currently not knowing where it wants to go." he explained further when Archie didn't let his questioning look leave. "I don't mean to offend Mister Sumner, but you have nowhere to go, many of your families are dead, and we know only of the survivors from the _Walker_ and the ones your brought out, as well as some rescued by cargo ships, and I think, that instead of settling again, you can put the hundred odd remaining people on your ship to work doing something worthwhile, finding homes for people just like you, and finding new races to meet and create alliances with."

Archie still was confused, the Rear Admiral stepped in. "Your decision does not need to be immediate sir, we can give you a day to think on it. But if you don't there is a large chance that the Federation will not be able to insure your losses."

Archie broke bearing and paced to the rear of the room, on the wall was a mirror that he took a moment to stare into. Staring back was his face, his shadow had grown longer and he knew that he'd have a beard before the middle of the week, his face was still dirty from dirt, his jacket crumpled and torn in the sleeves. He was looking at a man who was haggard and beaten. He realized that he was looking at his lost family, the face was strained from years as a Chief, and more years as an officer, it was stained from the tears of joy when they had their little bundle of joy. And now he saw the depths of despair behind the look he had thought to be casual and neutral. He could see the lines and the imagined the white hair along his forehead. He thought back, he remembered when he had been an officer, when his worry had been that his reports be turned in on time and that his division did their jobs correctly, but secretly he had always wanted something, a ship. He had always imagined himself in a command chair, over looking a splendid crew who both feared and respected him, who loved and hated him, who would follow him to hell, Gre'thor, and whatever other place there was. He had wanted that for years, and he had satisfied his wanting by taking up positions and places that gave him authority, realized it was time to do something other than watch and wait. It was time for his own command.

The Admiral walked up behind him and chewed a fingernail. "You have a day if you want, I'm sure plenty of people on your ship will as—"

Archie cut him off. "I'll do it."

A smile grew to the far edges of Shawns face. "Well then," he reached in his pocket. "I am permitted to give your this." He pulled from it a long black box and held it out to Archie.

Archie rubbed his sweaty hands on his pants and took the box, opening it. He opened it to see the shining gold ranks of a Commander. Not a word had to be said after, he walked from the room.

His future had one sure thing, he had work to do.

 **Conclusion**

So, the first episode of The Great Arc is completed! (Finally) I'm so glad you all have supported and continued to read my work. I hope you enjoyed this and will give me some feedback and continue to follow this story.

So about the time I published part 9, I think, I realized that I had more than one Sakup in the story, Sakup the science officer aboard _Walker_ , and Sakup the young militiawoman on Vega IX. Is this a coincidence? Or was it just that Sakup (Vega) was named the same as here counterpart, currently these two will remain the same. Just imagine how many John Smiths there are today and it's easy.

So the USS _Kolibri_ is now under Commander Archibald Sumner, who is nicknamed Dallas because of his accent and of course he was the only person from Texas aboard the _Kirk_. Reddy has broken, he will now be more stern and less friendly to his officers when on the bridge, you will see that he will tend to apologize to his friends in private after he has berated them.

I'll leave Fryfoe to your imagination, she may return someday, she may just live on in Archie's brain, but I hope you stay long enough to read that.

Tallyho!


	28. Episode 2: Remember Vega! (Explicit)

**So here is a little newsflash, we're retaking Vega!** So in the regular game Vega is left untouched in the regular character's story arc, the main idea is that Starfleet didn't need to task the character to fighting in the Vega system. Instead the game goes straight on to the SS Azura and the other story arcs, well I decided to fill in this slot with our finest officer, Lt Commander Samantha O'Connell. In this episode we will see O'Connell and a large fleet retake Vega, _after Chillingsworth_ saves the SS Azura. Please enjoy this episode of The Great Arc!

(Warning: this episode contains minor sexual references and no major contribution to the story, it has been cut short and contained so that the reader may skip over to the next chapter and not skip many important details.)

The Great Arc: Episode 2

Remember Vega!

The sun of the Una system, some eight light minutes away, shone a strange blue hue over the cabin. The light set a perfect mood, and both Suzanne and Sam had taken advantage of such a lull in the excitement of the last two days. The softness of skin and the low music that Sam had set up made the scene romantic, not flushed full of just need for something hardcore, but they finally could rest and enjoy the feeling of one's skin against the other. The whole thing had to private though, regulations were strict about having two officers, especially one directly under the other, together in any type of intimate relationship. But that didn't stop either of them.

Suzanne was directly over Sam, her body flush against her captain as one hand played down between her thighs and the other had Sam's right arm pinned above her head and softly massaging the flesh of it. Their lips were locked, the sweet long kisses Sam had always desired as she was pressed into the soft mattress by Suzanne's body. They were close, and Sam heaved up as Suzanne moved her fingers just right. Sam's arms wrapped around the blonde, pulling her against their already touching bodies and massaging the smooth skin of her back.

Quite abruptly, Suzanne lifted her body off of Sam. Trying to hold the kiss Sam went up on her elbows before she dropped back into the pillows. For a second Sam was worried, words ran through her head that she could have mumbled through a kiss, maybe she moved a hand wrong, maybe she did something that she didn't realize.

Sam took a leap. "What did I do?"

Suzanne smiled. "Nothing, I just thought I heard the comm go off."

Sam listened, she didn't remember hearing it but she had been busy with other things. "You sure?" Suzanne looked at the nightstand. As if on cue the panel signaled it's classic whistle. Suzanne reached to key it but Sam grabbed her hand and stopped. She slid across the sheets to the side of the bed and keyed the response. "O'Connell here."

"Sorry to disturb you sir, but you're needed on the bridge." It was the voice of the Comms Officer (Signaler), Ensign Vuzzut. O'Connell liked the Benzite's bravery, it was the middle of the dogwatches and not many signalers would risk waking their captain.

"Very well Ensign, I'll be down shortly, see that Lieutenant Mckahan is there as well." Sam formed a cheeky grin where Suzanne was sitting, legs tucked under her, bracing herself on one arm, and looked annoyed by the request.

"How long before you learn to process the situation on your own Sam?" She said, it was her sleep period and if she couldn't be with Sam she'd sleep.

Sam stood and walked to her closet, the cool air chilled her nude body. She took her standard Odyssey uniform, she had yet to receive her actual captain's uniform, which replaced the shoulder portion of the jacket with white instead of the standard gray, and began to dress. "A good captain listens to her First Officer, I thought they taught that to you in Command School?" she donned her under garments and pulled on the baggy red silk shirt and fitted the collar. She reached for her pants.

Suzanne stood, she had obviously wanted to start some kind of spark and draw Sam back to the bed, and walked to where her uniform was neatly laid over a chair. "They did, but they also taught us not to treat them bad, or they can raise a little hell among the crew."

Sam pulled up the cloth pants, pausing for a moment after buckling her belt to admire the red tactical stripes on them, and sat to put on her boots. A captain could usually decide what would be norms aboard their ship, and the only kind of boot Sam liked was either a work shoe or the black combats that she had shined to a mirror like polish. "I still love you Suzie," she sighed. "and I just feel more confident when you're next to me."

Suzanne's body wasn't as thin as Sam's, she was a little more curvy, but was still just a beautiful under the waste-length silk shirt. She walked over and helped Sam into her jacket. "You know the statistics for a new captain keeping her entire senior staff for more than six months?" Sam didn't. "The chance of the average captain, male or female and any species, who is a fresh commander straight from the academy, from command school nonetheless, to keep their senior staff for the first six months is almost one hundred to one. Which means that I could be whisked away before Starfleet plans to launch an offensive in the Vega System." she came around Sam's front and helped her with the clips that held the tight jacket's front together.

"You always have a point to get to Suzie, especially when I've got somewhere." Sam looked up into the taller, and slightly older, woman's eyes.

Suzanne laughed and placed her arms over Sam's shoulders and used her hands to neatly collect her deep red hair. Then she went serious as her arms rested there. "What I'm saying is that you better learn to command sister, because, knowing my parents, I'll either be given my own command or I'll take yours and you'll be shipped off." she bent her head down and brought her own eyes to where they were level with Sam's. "You may not realize it, but you've depended on me a lot since the First, and you know what that means."

Sam looked down, she realized just how much she had depended on Suzanne ever since that dreaded day in January. She looked back up. "It means you're threatening me with desertion if I don't let you sleep through these duty calls I always get."

Suzanne gave an annoyed smile and kissed Sam before stepping away to dress. Sam finished fixing her collar, checking the three stubs of a Lieutenant Commander and left the room, Suzanne would follow in a few minutes and take a less direct route, at a faster pace, to the bridge.

Sam checked her watch, 0000 hours (Midnight), the halls were quiet and deserted. An electrician crew stood as she passed, she waved them away and went on to take the turbolift to the bridge.


	29. Episode 2: Part 2

**Part 2**

Sam began to realize that she had been doing a substantial amount of leaning on her First Officer, the woman was naturally a better decision maker, and was able to command more respect from officers that Sam's shy nature. The woman had gone through two extra years at the Academy to get her Command rating, something that promised an officer a captaincy within three years of being commissioned, and the fact that she had survived and passed, from a curricular that had an eighty percent drop rate, proved that she deserved _Chillingsworth_ more than Sam.

In Sam's mind, that would be fine, she was Alabama born and raised, she had hardly an unfriendly fiber in her body. When a new officer or enlisted came aboard she'd greet them as if she was a roommate, not a captain. It was in this that her flaw came from, when a person did wrong she addressed them by asking them to improve, Suzanne barked like a Klingon captain and sometimes threatened like one as well. Where Suzanne could bark and bellow, Sam had to make herself be angry, which was quite hard for her and her southern mindset. However, as she stepped from the lift to the bridge, she straightened herself and put on her captain-like attitude and stepped to the bridge. The bridge was an amazing sprawl for a ship as small as _Chillingsworth_ , large enough that Sam could almost do a complicated dance she had learned in her youth without adjusting for the few console's scattered about.

The round bridge had been changed slightly in the few days they had at Earth back at the end of January, it had been widened and the platform that once dominated the rearward portion had been removed and the bridge reconstructed to a complete circle. At the center, beneath a wide view area that was good for watching stars streak past, was her command chair, forward was the two panels, Helmsman on the left and the Navigator/Fire Director opposite. Abreast the chair on each side was the comms station, which was a bank of panels with the sensors farther back along the wall, on the right; the left had the bridge engineer and behind was the station of the sciences. In all, each station was almost three paces from the center chair, making the bridge seem empty and alone in the dogwatches when only the helmsman, comms, and one other officer were on the watch.

Helmsman Jennifer Shay seemed to ignore her captain on the bridge, she simply went on staring dully out the viewscreen with one hand supporting her head. Lieutenant Junior Grade, Third Officer, Hurar Numdum was just about the same in the command chair, except he was bent over his PADD which was opened to a newsreel.

Sam looked at where Ensign Vazzut had turned and was looking, his strange face creased in what Sam believed to be the Benzite expression for concern. "I hope this isn't what you brought me up here for Ensign."

Numdum sat up and stood quickly when he realized that his captain was on the bridge. "Beg you pardon Captain, won't happen again." his words were slurred from his sleep laden eyes.

Sam walked up and shook her head, she patted his shoulder. "Happens to everyone Lieutenant, I don't blame you." Numdum ran the last watch as well as the first, in his spare time he worked with Ray Goldsby to improve his knowledge of the ship's engines and systems, he was always worn out on the dogwatches. She let him sit back down and walked to where Vazzut was still staring with his concerned face at her. "What's going on Ensign." she asked, the face was beginning to worry her.

"Captain, we are being contacted by Captain Vo'Lok, he says he has a very important message for you."

That was why Vazzut had disturbed her, other than his strict performance of his duties despite a captain's spare time, anything from Captain Vo'Lok would be important. Sam wished that he wasn't assigning them to another 'softening attack' that they had gone through yesterday. "Put it onscreen." Sam told Numdum to get from the camera shot and sat down. "Look lively Jenny, it's Captain Vo'Lok." The reluctant Ensign sat up and tried to clear her eyes of weariness.

The screen faded from it's view of light gray ships surrounding Una II to the stoic form of Captain Vo'Lok in his command chair. "Lieutenant Commander, my apologies for disturbing you and your ship at this hour, but your urgent assistance is needed."

"My ship is at your disposal Captain, please state the problem." Sam response was disciplined and level, it didn't seem as so with her sweet southern drawl.

"With most of our ships either tasked to border patrol or awaiting the offensive here in the Una system, we have been unable to escort transports that tend to. . .break down." His voice seemed to be filled with contempt. "A man directing shipping traffic for the Federation in this sector reported that one of his ships is missing, the SS Azura, and currently the closest ships for the job that aren't partway through a refit are here in the Una system."

"You want me to find the Azura?" Sam guessed.

"Indeed, in truth your ship poses little tactical advantage, if the offensive is launched without you it will affect the operation little." Vo'Lok's face didn't change, he probably didn't even realize or care that he had just insulted the entire _Chillingsworth_.

Sam had to swallow a tart response but nodded her head. "Indeed." She fought back angry thoughts. "The full details of the mission?"

"They will be given to you when you reach the Sol system, the transportation director, Malcolm Sissel, will be waiting for you to contact him." Vo'Lok paused. "This mission is urgent Commander, Azura is supposed to be carrying some important cargo for colonies on the Romulan border, I suggest you get a move on." the image faded and Shay sat up and swore.

"Little dirty—"

"I don't want that thought completed Ensign, he is indeed a Captain." Suzanne had stepped unto the bridge soon enough to hear the insult.

"All do respect Lieutenant, but bugger his captaincy, he has no right to insult out ship like that, to think he had the nerve to." the short girl, barely twenty, shook her head.

"He may be right, _Chillingsworth_ is a very small ship, her comparison to a ship like the _Renown_ would be much like that of an ant, to an anteater. We do indeed pose little tactical advantage on any battlefield." Numdum said sourly, he obviously hated the words, but he always spoke the plain truth.

Suzanne scoffed at the Trill. "To think that an officer aboard her would make such a comment is just as unthinkable."

Numdum moved his tired eyes to the First Officer. "I tell the truth Lieutenant, the whole truth and nothing but, so help me God." it had taken some time for Sam to realize that not only was the Trill formerly a student of law, he was also a devout Christian, which was very strange. "And I always will when among fellow officers."

Suzanne and Jenny were both about to through comments into the fight when Sam cut them off. "Either way, whether we are important or not, we have orders and I intend to fulfill them. Helm! Lay in a course of the edge of the Sol System, I'd rather not get mixed up in her traffic today." She stood and addressed Numdum. "Hurar, I want you to get some rest, I'll need you when, or if, we find the Azura." the Trill bowed his head and left the bridge.

Sam turned back and sat down. She asked Shay for a report.

"Course laid in, engineering reports recommended speed is Warp Factor 2.5, that will put us in the Sol System around reveille."

"Very well Miss Shay, execute maneuvers." the ship came around, Una II and her sun falling away. Shay reported that they were on course, they were moving slowly on Impulse speed. "Ahead Warp Factor 3." the stars accelerated and the planets faded. Blue tendrils grew on the screen as they accelerated past Warp One, before long the stars were streaks of blue as they rocketed towards Earth. It was almost 0100 hours before anyone had anything to say. Suzanne had brought them all a mug of tea to the bridge, which was upsetting since Sam took only coffee hot, and Shay commented on how disgusting it was without being sweetened.

"The point is to wake you up Jenny, not satisfy you." Sam smiled as she sipped the hot liquid.

"More like boil my insides, you know it's hot when you feel it burning your stomach. I find tea that hasn't any sugar bad anytime." She reluctantly drank hers and shook her head when she burnt her mouth.

"I use to dilute a small amount of unsweetened tea in my water, usually gave it a little more flavor and more enjoyable." Sam said, she had to admit that the tea was quite bad without sugar.

Vazzut swung away from his control panel and looked at the bridge. "I had the privilege to speak briefly with the director of the Marine School on the African Continent, he says that to make sure that training units hydrate while in the field he will mix the water rations that day with a large amount of water tea so that the trainees enjoy it. He says that the results are such that he had to stop due to the rising cost of the tea he needed."

Sam laughed, yet Suzanne seemed to be puzzled. "What on ea—" she changed the wording to save her from puns "Why were you in Africa?"

Vazzut huffed, making the two tendrils hanging beside his mouth move. "I never was, I only met the school director."

Suzanne's face reddened, she had misinterpreted the conversation and went to sit at the science station, far away from view. The bridge resumed it's silence for the rest of the watch. At 0200 a replacement came in and took over for Shay so she could go get some sleep before they arrived in the Sol system, and before long so was Vazzut. Two hours before the reveille (0600) Sam stood and left the bridge to Suzanne. She took the turbolift down several decks and went to the mess, she grabbed a small breakfast plate and left to visit her Heads of Operations and Security.

Starfleet had come some way in recent months, she remembered reading the articles in the _Academy_ _Post_ about the new training programs for more combat like forces, and the increased awareness the captains were having towards their ship's internal affairs, as well as the creation of a new group of officers known as Executives. Sam, as the captain of only one hundred fifty officers and men, was indeed concerned with the internal affairs of her ship. Where on a larger ship a spat between two officers would be dealt with by the department head or an officer above the fighting personnel, yet Sam was peaceful soul, she always wanted someone to find an easy and agreeable solution. Yet sometimes people didn't get along.

One of those problems was Sam's security head, Chief Sergeant Thaddeus Kindrick had apparently not been popular among his class at the Berlin Arm, and wasn't very popular aboard _Chillingsworth_. Aboard the ship was supposed to be three officers assigned to the security division, each one supposed to command twenty enlisted, the chain of command went by succession. The first problem had been when Rebecca Haymore decided to stay aboard _Walker_ and the third officer was wounded on the First. By succession, Chief Kindrick had full authority of the department until the third officer was back on his feet. Unfortunately, by the time the third officer, now an ensign, was walking again, the entire enlisted and new warrant staff of the security division was completely behind the Welsh chief and actually asked that the ensign not resume his authoritative position in the department. This had all happened in the middle of January.

When the ensign attempted to agree and follow Chief Kindrick as his second, another officer, a very proud Englishman, opposed the thought and tried to extend his arm out of his department and place the ensign on a throne of sorts. By the time the news of this conflict reached Sam on the fifteenth, the groups willing to fight, which did not include the ensign and Kindrick, had formed and were one arm swing away from a brawl in the mess room in the middle of the night when Sam walked in. In the end she removed the officer and agreed to let the ensign still serve on the security staff, although he was under Chief Kindrick.

The security office was near the rear of the saucer, just forward of the Engineering stations, and it was deserted at this hour. The only life was the Operations officer, the Lieutenant Junior Grade Devvers' office had been destroyed on the First and didn't have full pressurization yet, sleeping over her paperwork, and Thaddeus Kindrick, a man only twenty years old, polishing his combats. He wore the more utility like uniform that most enlisted members did, Thaddeus stood and showed some respect when Sam cleared her throat and entered the room.

"You're up early." Sam spoke, she had heard he wasn't a man to waste sleep.

Thaddeus chuckled. "Or is it late, I can't tell anymore."

Sam smiled and sat at the meeting table in the middle of the room, briefly she recalled reading Kindrick's file. Thaddeus George Kindrick, Welsh born and poor due to his father's gambling problem, had several problems. He was claustrophobic and could lose track of the days, he'd start a tour knowing everything, then by the end he'd be on the edge of madness. He had already had one cruise aboard the _Constitution-_ refit USS _Kirk_ and the reports on his command ability and ticks had come from the newer captain, Captain Thelin, himself.

( _Pause for a second, I know that the USS_ _Kirk_ _is actually an Exeter_ - _class cruiser, but I've decided to make it a Constitution-refit because currently the Vesper and Exeter are yet to be developed and launched. At some point Thelin will receive the Kirk-B in the Exeter-class and Samantha will receive one of the first five Vespers the USS Arnhem._ )

She realized that the strange madness from the monotony of starship life was starting to set in, Kindrick would eventually end up without any track of the time except for that on his watch. Currently there was no known cure for his condition except for a leave.

Kindrick sat opposite of her and continued to polish his boot. Sam looked at where Devvers lay sleeping. "She seems peaceful." she stated, almost stupidly.

Kindrick looked from his shoe polishing. "Poor thing I'd say. She's got a whole department full of young men who haven't mastered how to resist a pretty Orion face, a dozen who have and are willing to use that mastery to their own advantage."

Sam looked across at the young face. Young but weathered, it was marked with acne scars and was somehow still deeply tanned from his previous life on the farm. Strange, Sam hadn't seen many Welshmen with a tan as deep as Kindrick's. "I'd say. It's amazing that she's an Orion, doesn't even try, and I still have a hard time keeping eye contact."

Kindrick laughed. "I use to share a living space with one, I've had enough practice to know, yet she can still get to me sometimes." He began to blush, regretting making the statement. He put his boots back on and looked at Sam. "Now, what can I help you with Cap'n?"

Sam turned to the table and crossed her arms on the glass surface. "We've been given orders to assist in the hunting down of a lost freighter, we'll be arriving in the Sol System around reveille and I plan to move out an hour after."

"Anything more detailed than that?"

"No, only that we need to get in contact with a Malcolm Sissel and he will tell us what we need to know."

"And you of course have special orders for me?"

"I hope to hold a meeting, in here, around 0615 if I can. Then we'll be meeting with a small supply ship before we move out at 0700. By seven-thirty I want a security and operations team at ready status." that was the part that got Kindrick.

Kindrick suddenly looked tired, he nodded his head and ran a hand through his short blond hair. "Very well, we'll be ready before then."

"Good, I know you don't like it but it's much needed precaution, you know as well I did what we could have prevented if we had been on alert instead of simply moseying along. And it came in handy when we ran into that smugglers nest near the Bomari System remember?"

Kindrick nodded, he crossed his right leg over his left and inspected a fleck of dust that had landed on his gleaming black boots. It was the closest thing to admitting she was right he would give.

Sam placed her palms on the table and stood. "Alright, I expect this room cleared at zero-six-fifteen." she turned and left the room, Kindrick threw a have a nice morning after her as the door closed.

When the door was closed he looked at the sleeping Lieutenant Devvers had her head laying on her desk. "You hear all that Jan?"

The Orion, who most called Jan simply because it was less formal that Devvers, raised her head and brushed her jet black hair back. She grabbed a hairband and began to work it into her usual ponytail. "How could I not? You were speaking like you were in a crowded restaurant." she finished with her hair and adjusted her blouse from where it was rumpled.

"Liar, we were speaking at a very quiet volume, you just need Doc Polk to fix your hearing." Thaddeus shifted his legs and stood, he walked over and started a pot of tea on the portable stove from the Operations lockers.

"Still interrupted me." she grinned and sifted through the papers on her desk.

Special issue instant tea leaves, laced with special nutrients to assist in hydration and energy production, brewed in a matter of seconds and poured a strong and thick brew of tea. Thaddeus poured two cups, filled his with about three tablespoons of sugar, also laced with special nutrients, and took the cups over to the desk. He sat opposite of the attractive Orion and sipped his tea once before responding.

"Jan, one day we'll get a moment, we've been trying for a whole month, and one day we'll find the spare time."

Jan smiled, that sweet warm smile that was entirely not Orion, but human and enough to make a blind man see. "One day."


	30. Episode 2: Part 3

**Please forgive the delay my friends, the past several days have been busy and the next ones will be as well.**

 **Part 3**

As planned, _Chillingsworth_ entered the edge of the Sol System just after 0600 hundred and established contact with Malcolm Sissel at Earth Spacedock, their staff meeting commenced ahead of schedule at 0605.

Gathered around the table in the Security Office just forward of Main Engineering was the whole department staff of the USS _Chillingsworth_ , indeed a diverse group. Captain O'Connell, the human from Alabama, First Officer Suzanne Mckahan, daughter of a lord and spent most of her childhood living off world, Second Officer/Engineering Officer Ray Goldsby, a Texan with a mindset much like his captain, Third Officer/Bridge Engineer Hurar Numdum, the Trill who had expected to get Ray's position but was just as happy, although more often fatigued, in his position, all sat on O'Connel's left. On the right was Medical Officer Awdy Polk, the Caitian who had requested to stay aboard after the First, Signaler Vazzut, the Benzite who Sam knew little about, Sciences Officer Sooroo, a cat-like alien who was tall and slender and had miraculously survived her wounds from the First, Operations Officer Devvers, Security Chief Kindrick, the Welshman, and finally Ensign Shay, the short woman filled in for the Tactical Officer who was out with a case of the flu.

The meeting started with Lieutenant Suzanne Mckahan giving the situation. "As many of you may wonder, around midnight last night we were ordered to the Sol system by Captain Vo'Lok to receive information on a missing ship. That said, we are now orbiting Uranus and have been given orders to begun searching for a missing Class III Freighter." She keyed the holographic display in the middle of the table and the picture of the Vulcan Sector came up. "The freighter, the SS _Azura_ , last logged that she was heading for the Pico System, here," she pointed out a brighter star on the map, "And lost contact almost sixteen hours ago. As the ship is rather old and makes regular stops along the way to cool off her Warp Core, the _Azura_ is believed to be in this area." she pointed out an empty patch of space "Now from what we've been told, _Azura_ is carrying a valuable cargo of Class III supplies for a planet on the outer edge of Federation space, she was taking it to the Pico System where a Federation ship would be able to rush top speed to the outer planets. I must inform you that this is indeed quite the imperative mission, those supplies cost somewhere between two and ten billion credits and will be able to save the starving colony for the next year if used properly."

"You said it was a Class III freighter, from what I see she is almost fifty years old, and was due for a refit some forty years ago." Ray spoke up.

"Your point Mister Goldsby?" Sam asked.

"Well, this particular class of freighter has always been known to have warp core problems, and she hasn't had any logged maintenance done to it in almost five years." Sam nodded for him to continue. "My thought is that the core may have melted down, meaning she either dropped and dedicated her power to containing the core, or she didn't rescue it in time." He bowed his head at the suggestion.

"Assume that she contained it, what would happen next?"

Shay spoke up. "The course she is thought to be in is a Federation warp stream, it's heavily guarded by Starfleet and there hasn't been a single marauder attack in a year and half. As of late however, the route has been unguarded."

"I see where the Ensign is going with this sir." Sooroo cut in. Sam looked at here. "Sir, we know that the Orions are in Federation space, they've been raiding civilian commerce and even had attack a few of our ships. I just read quite the amount on the _Azura_ , in the past she has lost contact with Starfleet only twice."

"Then why are we worrying about her losing it now?" Kindrick retorted, if there was one thing he hated it was a mission brief, especially since most didn't involve his own Devvers' divisions.

"Those times she was on the Fed-Klingon border, once because she entered a nebula, the other time she was hiding from Klingon patrols in an asteroid field." She glared at the back of the man's seat when he mumbled something low. "The fact that we lost her behind our lines means she is either dead, being jammed, or she is hiding, in which case the asteroid fields in the suggested area is a wonderful place to start if we assume that she's alive."

"You two are saying," Kindrick seemed interested now as he swung his chair around to look at Sooroo and Shay. "that she dropped out, probably to cool her warp core, and was attacked?"

"Or threatened Chief, she may have limped away and hidden from the Orions and hasn't activated her distress beacon for fear of being found." Shay answered.

Most around the table were nodding their heads, it was very simple, yet the question was: how were they going to execute their search. Sam sat up and looked about the table, signaling for Suzanne to sit. "Gentlemen, it appears that we must begin our search. We'll set course for the search area at 0700 and commence operations, that gives us enough time to prepare and double check. As well as get your breakfast if you're in need. Please assume your stations no less than five minutes before departure, since there is an Orion threat, I want us at yellow alert and the phaser banks charged. Chief Kindrick and Ensign Devvers, I want a team, with you on it, at ready stations before we depart. Be sure it's a little more engineer oriented in case the _Azura's_ warp core did fail, all other departments know their duties." As Sam stood the table followed suit. "You have the next forty minutes to yourselves and your stations, dismissed." the group broke and funneled into the hall while Devvers and Thaddeus Kindrick stayed and fixed the chairs.

Both then, already in gray clothing meant for working out, left the room and began the run they always did around this time in the morning. The run took them down to the deepest part of _Chillingsworth_ by the warp core, it then ran up through the impulse spaces and across the main engineering areas. They'd take the outer ring of the ship, where the port living spaces and different offices were, before they had circled to the front of the saucer and went back down to the lowest decks and went through the cargo hold and back towards the security office. Once there they went along the starboard ring until they came close to their own quarters. _Chillingsworth_ was much different from many starships, instead of using ramps, jeffries tubes, and more turbolifts, it's primary form of movement between decks was done by grate stairs that shook when one person walked across them. The catwalks and stairs bucked and threatened to fall with the Welshman and Orion woman running across them.

The whole course they took a minimum of twenty-three minutes. The finishing stretch was the hall that separated the two hallways that their quarters were in. When they reached the long stretch they sprinted, the competition was to make it to the double airlock before the other, and it was almost always close. The problem however, was that the tall Orion had about three inches advantage in height and leg length, she used this and always ended a second before Kindrick, who had to jump to get his whole hand to touch the top of the blast door. The exercise, which he had originally formed for himself and his security teams, kept most crewmen in shape and improved their knowledge of the ship. Twice a week Kindrick would have the entire security staff run the exercise with full tactical support gear.

With the run finished, even the Orion, who had a body as finely tuned as a racing vehicle, left most completely breathless and tired.

As Thaddeus swore and jumped to slap the top of the door, the Orion slowed, stopped, and turned about to smile at the breathless chief. "You'd better grow up Chief, you'll never make a paratrooper at this rate."

Thaddeus swore again and tried to get his breath back, the final run was what tended to get at his lungs the most. "You can shut up now." he coughed, his lungs were sore from the run.

Devvers, quite enjoying her much longer lead this time, danced about and put on her best sergeant voice. "What you're doing may good enough for the Operations section, maybe even the Marine Corps, but it will not do for my security staff!" she quoted.

Thaddeus had spent most of his childhood wanting to be a paratrooper, he had always been wrapped in the stories of the US. 82nd and 101st Airborne Divisions, sometimes he reenacted the adventures of Kurt Student's and the British Airborne Divisions. When he had taught the security and tactical recruits at the Berlin Arm he had bellowed those same lines the Orion had spoken. The reason he hadn't been popular aboard _Chillingsworth_ and at the academy had been for his hard driving and rough grading of physical performance. Some said he failed half a class a semester until he had been asked to lower his standards for the physical evaluations, he had but had been 'fired' by being posted aboard the _Chillingsworth_. So far the year at the academy, compared to his time on _Kirk_ and times as physical director for several grades in his teenage years, had been his longest time in a position without break. He was finally glad to have a position aboard a starship and be able to see that those under him performed to his standards, or be punished.

Both finally recovered and looked at each other, Thaddeus checked his watch. "I'm going to take my shower, I expect to see you outside the transporter room on time."

Devvers nodded. "Combat dress correct?"

"Aye, I want you on the away team."

They broke there and went to their separate quarters.

Thaddeus finished his shower quickly and called the security office half dressed. "Security Office." came a voice, it was that of the Saurian who operated the comms to the area at this time of day.

"Jitkotu, I need you to get the ensign to unlock the equipment room, I'll explain when I get there. Have the teams move out to their locations but keep Thirish, Rudit, and. . . Chuang Shilin. Have them gear up, I'll be there in a few minutes. Kindrick out." he closed his communicator and finished dressing. He donned the black longsleeve that went with his utility jacket and left the room, still buckling his equipment belt, and made his way aft to the Security Office. When he got there the three crewmen he had ordered were waiting as well as Ensign Adoq Wafit who had a very unhappy look on his face.

The Bolian was about to form and speak some protest by Thaddeus continued to cut him off by addressing the three crewmen and quickly going about his business. The Bolian had said nothing of importance by the time they were all kitted out and running through the door to get to the transporter room before the five minute time. His last words to the officer were a rhetorical question as to if he would 'hold down the fort'.

The team made it to the transporter room and were forced to sit on the floor, the triss transporter chief nodded and reported that the security team, and a few seconds later the operations team, had arrived. Six minutes later they felt, sitting on the floor with their heavy equipment, the ship go to warp.

It would be an hour before they reached the starting search zone, and then probably longer before they found the _Azura_. Thaddeus ordered that the teams down the heavy top part of their gear and watched as the crewmen sat in a circle and pulled a deck of cards. The group played and discretly passed credits between them while Janet and Thaddeus leaned against the transporter console and conversed with the Tellerite operator.

It could be a long day.


	31. Episode 2: Part 4

**Part 4**

"Sector Three cleared sir, _Warrior_ reports it has completed search of Sector Four as well." Shay's voice was tired and on the edge of volatile as they completed their sixth hour of search. There were sixteen sectors to cover, and if it took two hours to clear one, and _Azura_ either wasn't in them or was destroyed, they would be wasting thirty two hours doing nothing.

"Very well, call in the shuttles and order the _Warrior_ to move on to Sector Five. Lay in a course for Sector Six helm." Shay, who had a little more experience with sensors, was sitting in the navigator/weapons controller seat and was currently the main feed of information for Sam.

Suzanne came up close and leaned an arm on Sam's chair. "Are we really going to search sixteen damn sectors and not once ask for help?"

Sam didn't look at the blonde. "I've been given a set of orders, and I intend to fulfill it to my greatest capacity. Which means I have no resources, which means if I wanted help, I couldn't get it anyways." Sam stood and looked about the bridge. "I'm going for lunch, I'll be back and relieve you one by one in quarter hour segments. Take the Conn Miss Mckahan."

Sam turned to leave and was almost through the door when Sooroo called her back. She asked what it was. "Sir, I've detected a starship in the area." she paused and studied her console. "It's a _Constitution_ -cargo vessel, listed as the USS _Oosterbeek_."

"Vazzut open a hailing line, maybe she can render aid." Sam quickly returned to her spot in the middle of the bridge.

"Hailing line open sir, she is responding on an audio only channel."

Sam pressed the corresponding button on her chair's console. "Attention _Oosterbeek_ , this is the _Chillingsworth_ , come in please."

A garbled voice responded. " _Chillingsworth_ , _we_ _read_ _you_."

"You sound garbled _Oosterbeek_ , is everything alright?"

" _Absolutely fine, we've always had trouble with our radios, how can we help you_ _Chillingsworth_?" for some reason, Sam felt like the person on the other end was fake.

"We were tasked to find a missing freighter in this sector, we'd be asking for your help if you have time." Suzanne stepped silently up and handed Sam a PADD showing where _Oosterbeek_ was and where she had been. "I just had a vector analysis and I see you've passed through our search area, have you detected any signals or possible activity of any kind?"

There was a long pause before the voice came back. " _Umm_. . . _yes, we had to skirt around a group of Orions who seemed to be occupying an area. That's about a light year back along our path, the funny thing was that they didn't seem interested in anything in particular, just seemed to be cruising about a fifty kilometer area._ "

Sam sat up and leaned forward, despite the fact that the audio came from her chair's arm and there was no visual. " _Oosterbeek_ , if there is anything else you can give us, any aid you can render, please do so. I'd like to ask you to help me eradicate this threat." she bit her lip, maybe they wouldn't be cruising about space for the rest of the day.

" _I must offer my captain's apologies Chillingsworth, but we are on an important mission to the Nimbus system and can't stop to chat any longer. We'd love to help, but we have to go now. Oosterbeek out._ "

Vazzut, whose information was sent to Sooroo's station, and vice versa, straightened and face the command chair. "Sir, _Oosterbeek_ has cut communications and increased warp speed, she's booking it away from here sir."

Sam banished any doubts of what the shady ship had said, they had the break they were looking for and she intended to use it. "Navigation, plot _Oosterbeek's_ course and find the area she reported the Orions in, let me know when you get an answer. Comms," Sam stood and walked to the railing that went about the bridge and separated most stations from her command chair. "have the shuttles hurry back in, and send this message to Starfleet. Message reads: first lead found to the whereabouts of the SS _Azura_ , we are pursuing this lead. Also inform them, as a side note, that we made contact with the _Oosterbeek_ as she makes her way to Nimbus."

"Captain," Shay spoke. "I've calculated their course, it went straight through Sector Ten."

"Sensors focus on that area. Have the _Warrior_ meet us there, helm lay in course!"

Suzanne looked up from her post. "Shuttles have landed."

"Course laid in sir."

"Warp Factor Four, engage."

Blue tendrils stretched across the main viewscreen and stars raced past. The sudden acceleration threw Sam, still standing, of balance for a moment before the capable engines accelerated _Chillingsworth's_ light mass forward.

"Drop out in ten seconds sir."

Sam sat and leaned forward. The seconds counted away and she was pulled forward by the deceleration from Warp Factor Four. Almost immediately as the blue tendrils of Warp 2 plus died away, Shay called out as her panel chirped loudly.

"Captain, Orion have begun closing on us, fifty kilometers."

"Shields at maximum, ready phasers, red alert!" Sam propped her left arm on the edge of her chair and held the pointer finger of her left hand up to her mouth. It had become bad habit to lightly suck on the finger, she refrained from it this time.

"Enemy is closing at Impulse 100, they'll be on us in a matter of seconds."

"Sensor report!"

Sooroo took a second and looked up. "Sir, three ships, all corvette size. They seem to be older models, but still they are quite capable of combat." she paused. "My scanners have detected larger ships in the area."

"Our worries are these at the moment. Helm bring us about, ninety degrees. Dedicate power from all non-essential system to shields, weapons to bear from bridge control." the ship came about, the viewscreen shifting to view their targets.

The subsequent events were quick. Sam ordered that the targets be designated and that all weapons focus, as they bore, on whichever target she specified. The Orion corvettes slowed, they were a little smaller than _Chillingsworth_ , utilizing the Orion design of smooth curves and a very centralized construction. The practical design of the ships was extremely effective for combat, especially when the shields were down, but proved poor when it came to range. Sam realized that the Orions must have some kind of fueling depot and supply dumps close by to be able to penetrate Federation lines like this.

"Enemy in weapons effective range. . .now." Shay announced.

"Fire." Sam said, she said it with a cool and quiet silence that made her seem more like a maniac than a southern woman.

The four phaser banks lanced bright light and sliced at the oncoming ships. Their starboard turn had turned the three oncoming ships into a single file line, for a brief ten seconds only one Orion could bring his disruptor arrays to bear. Then the second and third ships increased speed and were alongside their brother. Sam tasked the anti-torpedo weapons to fire on target, results were satisfying. Shay called that the first Corvette was trying to pull away.

"Stay with her, torpedoes to bear."

The Pakled helmsman brought the bow around and precise timing from Shay sent three photon torpedoes cruising through space to the weakened shields of the Orion vessel. All three detonated around the engine section, secondary explosions rocked the corvette and she exploded stern to bow in a brilliant cloud of orange fire. Cheers erupted on the bridge before a torpedo strike on the port side shook them.

This time the phaser lanced out within four kilometers, a range that guaranteed not only contact but also disavowed any energy loss that came with longer range shooting. The arrays and their pulsing counterparts made short work of the second, who had been trying to help the third in an encircling movement to stretch _Chillingsworth's_ shield power. They focused on the engineering section again, this time there was massive spurge of green flame as the impulse engines detonated. Miraculously the corvette was alive, but her disruptors died and she went quiet. They changed targets again and pursued the final corvette, which was increasing speed, her weapons power dropped and she began to accelerate to warp. A final beam cut through the top of her rearward section at extreme range as she disappeared to warp.

Sam stood. "Damage report!" she shouted.

Suzanne had one a second later. "Minor damage, no breaches, five wounded from weapon concussion and spark burns. In all, we've whipped them."

Sam looked out into space. "What about that crippled corvette?"

Sooroo swivled her chair around. "Ship is crippled, her engines have lost all power and she is drifting at an equivelent of Impulse 10."

Sam had stood, she looked at her First Officer. "Any suggestions, Lieutenant?"

Suzanne's eyebrow creased as she went back through her memory concerning Orion ships. "Orion corvette, short and lightly crewed ship, best cruising speed roughly Factor 2, two disruptor banks and two torpedo tubes. Crew of less than a hundred." standing beside Sam, she looked at her. "She may be venting atmosphere and she's probably lost most of her crew in that blast."

Sam nodded. "That's all very intriguing, but can a team repair her."

Noticing what they were suggesting, Numdum began working at his console, he looked up after half a minute. "My sensors read that her Impulse mains have shorted out and she's pretty battered. But, her main engineering remains intact, even if we can't get her to move, most corvettes have a small hangar that usually carry one or two fighters. She also has managed to keep her inner hull pressurized, only a few outer sections have lost pressure."

"We can also gain some important Intel from capturing her crew, thank you Lieutenant." Sam moved to her chair and slapped the button to the transporter room. "Bridge to transporter room."

"Transporter room, go ahead." came the rough voice of the Tellerite operator.

"Is Chief Kindrick and Lieutenant Devvers present?"

There was a short pause and another voice came back. "Aye captain, Chief Kindrick here."

"Good. Chief, we have crippled an Orion corvette and I want you to capture it. Feel up to the task?" Sam knew that the man wouldn't care if she asked him to board a Borg Sphere, he'd do it.

"Yes sir, my men are ready, any special requests?"

"Indeed, if you can't capture her, she should have one or two fighters or shuttles. If so, take them and prepare to scuttle the ship, we will try to come around and pick you back up before long."

"Understood, is it possible we can get some impulse assembly parts?"

Sam looked at Hurar, who nodded after a moment. "Indeed Chief, we'll send over what we think you need and move off a little ways to keep from looking suspicious, is that good."

"Jolly, Captain. We'll begin transporting now."

Sam looked back out the viewscreen, a monitor beside the screen noted that more Orion ships were closing. She ordered that Shay take them fifteen kilometers from the wrecked corvette and assume that position.

The teams buckled all their gear and took to the transporter PADD, Thaddeus talked it over with Devvers and they decided to take three teams of five, one would include her and two engineers, with a security escort, and would beam down near engineering and quickly secure it. Just forward in the living spaces would beam another crew under Ensign Wafit would beam in and help secure supplies to fix the corvette's impulse engines. Finally the last team would beam with Kindrick in the bridge area and attempt to capture the command staff.

Although the ship was only two hundred meters long, it still had a reasonable complement of Orion thugs that were stronger than the average human. Also, female Orions were famed for their ability to manipulate the senses and make you open to suggestion. As the second aft section team beamed away, Kindrick cast one last look at his team. They would be beaming into a somewhat open room on the corvette, which could mean they were landing in an empty cargo hold or a populated living space or control center. As was customary for a man afraid of transporting, Kindrick closed his eyes and said those words he dreaded so much.

"Energize!" he squeaked and was away.


	32. Episode 2: Part 5

I'll go ahead and let you know now, week after next you won't see much of me. In fact, you won't see any of me. No, it's not that I'm quitting, it's just that I've got a little vacation I'm going on and probably won't be taking my computer (or I will and won't use it) and will not make any progress on The Great Arc. If I do take it I will not be posting Chapters, only making them so I have several to post afterwards. I'll probably post a chapter before I go, and then be gone for about ten (10) days. I really hope I can finish this episode before then and then activate my Cannon Rapid Fire: II and put a massive amount of content out. I'd also really like it if you readers gave me some more feedback and share it with your friends and communities, I do understand that Star Trek Online may not be the most popular of Fanfiction areas, but somehow I have over three hundred views. Keep those views coming, and in the words of our Vulcan friends: "Live long, and prosper."

 **Part 5**

 _Chillingsworth_ heeled about and let off a barrage of torpedoes. Their bright orange glow cut the space before the mainscreen and impacted the forward section of the corvette they had been trying to get for the last few minutes. All three impacted and blew holes in the front of the ship. The shock of the blasts pushed the bow of the ship down, her impulse went down and she was bracketed by phaser fire. She exploded brilliantly and very close to _Chillingsworth_. For a second the bridge was blinded by the blast.

Sam could see that the Orions weren't much for a fight. A cruiser, twice their size, had run when hit by a couple of torpedoes, a whole squadron of corvettes had run after being hit by a couple of phaser blasts. Complete chaos seemed to wrack the enemy fleet, sensors indicated that the Orions had somewhere around fifty marauding ships in the sector, yet the cowardly ran and the idiots attacked. Suzanne had noted that some were not attacking because they seemed to be located in search patterns, inclining Sam to believe that _Azura_ was in this sector.

 _Chillingsworth's_ one runabout, _Warrior_ , had returned after running silently about the system, her pilot had stated that she had spotted something of a low-wave distress signal but had been running low on fuel and had to return.

The fire and debris from the unfortunate corvette had dispersed as Suzanne stepped up with a sensors analysis of the area. "Sir, if I can go Vulcan real quick," she cocked a playful eyebrow at Sam. "it appears that if the _Azura_ is anywhere in this section of space, she is hiding in that small patch of asteroids and radiation. It clogs _our_ sensors which is why the Orions must be doing a visual sweep, which means if we run in and fire a couple of phasers, we may be able to draw the _Azura_ out and tow her away."

Sam checked the coordinates. She swung her chair to the sensors slot. "Sooroo, are there not several larger ships in that area."

"Quite true sir, there are two cruisers and one slaveship that appears to be stationary. However, they do have a larger presence of corvettes."

Sam swung her chair back about to the comms station. "Vazzut, report on the away parties."

The Benzite touched his ear and looked up. "Not secured yet, the teams tasked to take the engineering section have succeeded and are awaiting the first shipment of supplies."

"What about the command team?"

Vazzut shook his head. "Nothing yet sir, his last transmission stated that he had encountered heavy resistance in the forward holds."

Sam thought for a second, she didn't want to leave both her security and operations heads aboard a ship that might not fly again, but if _Azura_ was hiding nearby and the Orions had been searching long enough, she couldn't leave her mission alone. "Have the carry on and have the transporter room send over supplies to repair the impulse engines, tell them we are moving away to engage other enemies."

Vazzut nodded and the Third Officer stepped up. "Sir, I just had the needed parts to build a small Impulse assembly beamed over, I am confident Lieutenant Devvers can built something worth using, even if it doesn't get them past Impulse 10."

Sam looked at the Trill, he was older than her by a year but looked as old as Ray. She found it uncomfortable that every officer that addressed her need to stand at the arm of her chair. "Very well." She said. "Helm lay in course for that asteroid cluster, maximum Impulse power."

"Aye sir."

Thaddeus ducked back as green beam of light seared the air where he had been before. The Orions proved to be wonderful soldiers, while thug-like and tactless, their resolve and mass mass tactics had almost overcome his small team on several occasions.

From what the teams aboard the corvette knew, as soon as the engineering section was secured and Thaddeus' team had beamed into a forward cargo space, the Orion captain had ordered almost all troops forward to attack Kindrick's team, leaving only a few to hold down main corridors between the living spaces and command room. With Ensign Wafit busy securing supply dumps, Thaddeus and his four men were left to hold their own and make painfully slow progress through the forward part of the ship.

Thaddeus ducked back again as another green beam sliced down the hall and traced a shape on the crossroads that his two Caitian team members were defending while he and the two other members, a woman and a Andorian, tried to push forward against what felt like a battalion of soldiers.

Thaddeus slowly edged out with his eye to the holographic sight on his gun, as he came out he saw the shoulder of a thug about ten yards away, he fired. There was a scream and the green body lurched backwards, another orange phaser bolt struck it from where the woman knelt on the left side of the corridor. Another green body leaned out and Thaddeus shot him, then ducked back as the crate he was hiding behind was struck by a fusillade of energy bolts. An empty canister on the top tipped over and almost crushed his legs.

They couldn't stay here, that was a fact. If they continued to be held down a team of Orions could flank them by diverting shield power to the damaged hull, if that happened Thaddeus could just as well shoot himself.

Going against standard boarding procedure, which stated that it was imperative to reduce damage done to the ship you were trying to capture, Thaddeus hooked two photon grenades from his belt and tossed one to the woman across the way. Silently he pointed at her with one finger, then at himself with three stating that he'd toss his grenade much farther than hers. She nodded and primed the grenade, Thaddeus primed his own and set it on a three second timer. Together they tossed the weapons down the hall, hers more rolling than flying, and his pitched like a baseball.

The corridor was filled with light and fire for a split second and then silent. Via his shortwave communicator that he used to contact his team, the two Caitian members guarding the crossroad twenty yards back peeked around the doorway and shot at anything they saw. They only fired once.

Using overlapping tactics, where one line moved under the cover of several lines behind, then the line at the back moved up five yards ahead of the first. The two Caitians moved up ahead and were followed by Thaddeus and the woman. The Andorian made up her own line and secured another crossing in the ship. The team grouped at that location and saw that the halls went down to a sealed bulkhead on one side, and a repair shield on the other. They moved on.

The fighting became sparse, the grenades had done the trick and scared the Orion thugs back into their holds, occasionally a stray blast would almost maim a team member but precise fire from the Caitian twins would always return without a miss. In fact, all through their training back at the Berlin Arm, Thaddeus was sure that he hadn't seen either of them miss a target more than twice in a row. The two were marksmen, so good that whever Thaddeus needed one he would call 'Rifleman!' and almost immediately one would be at his side with their rifle.

Each time, as they made their way carefully forward and up through the decks, they came across resistance it would run. Now the pressure that had been on their front was completely gone and moving back towards the command spaces near the highest decks of the ship. In less than five minutes Thaddeus and his team were crouching at the end of a hallway looking at where the Orions had gathered and were busy sealing off the main entrance to the bridge. Thaddeus ducked back from his viewpoint and went back down the hall to a turn and knelt down beside his team.

"Well," he started "it seems as though they've initiated a fallback plan, all eggs in one basket."

Crewman Kerns, the human female, let out a low tone of joy and reported she had contact with Ensign Wafit' and Lieutenant Devvers' teams. Thaddeus took the communicator and signaled Wafit. "Waffy my boy." he said cheerfully.

"About time, where in the hell have you been, we've been worried sick. What did you think you were doing, running off like that and leaving us with no work of where you were. If I wasn't outranked by you I'd probably shoot you." came the very honest opinion of Adoq Wafit.

"Indeed, and I'm glad you're honest with me Mister Wafit, anyways, how does it go in the engine spaces?" the faces about Thaddeus were smiling, it had become a sport to agitate the Bolian Ensign just to hear him rant.

There was a shuffling and Thaddeus heard the communicator passed to another. "Devvers here, it turns out the Impulse engines weren't too bad off. The only problem was a few energy coils and the fuel tanks have been breached, and the inertial dampeners have been destroyed; which means were have less than a fourth of a tank of plasma and a big problem if we need to get anywhere in a hurry."

"Can you get them working?" Thaddeus asked as he deployed the Andorian and Kerns into the hall to keep an eye on the Orions.

"Well, we can get the engines working in about fifteen minutes or so, but they won't go much faster than Impulse 10 and we'll take our own sweet time getting there or else we'll be squashed against the bulkheads." sometimes Thaddeus wondered why she had gone into Operations and specialized in Engineering, of all the engineers he had met, she was the only one who made it simple enough for you to understand.

"Very well, get those engines working and see if you can get the inertial dampeners back up so we can get moving. Waffy." there was a shuffling as the communicator was handed back to the Bolian. "What about the hanger?"

"Nothing Chief, looks like this set of Orions wanted to use it to increase range so they put some tanks and food in there."

The Bolian was about to give his opinion on that, which Bolians enjoyed doing, when Thaddeus cut him off. "Very well, what about enemy resistance?" there was none, the ensign said. "Fine then, I want you to leave three men in the Engineering, and sweep up to my location on your side of the bridge. If I'm right the captain of this rig has dumped all his troops outside the bridge in hopes of getting rid of us while we try to take it." He paused and glanced around the corner at the welding taking place. "And be quick, they're trying to seal off the bridge."

"Understood, be there in two."

While they waited, Thaddeus sent the Andorian and the Twins out to either side to scout out if the Orions had set up more defense line since the team had moved aft of the bridge. Wafit and Thaddeus were forming their attack plan when the two groups made it back. Their force numbered nine now.

The group gathered around as Wafit filled them in on the plan. "Alright, we'll split into two groups, one under Kindrick and the other, yours truly." he gave the assignments, then pointed to a small shouldered Pakled. "I want you to climb into the air vents, and be quiet about it, and see if you can get into the bridge section and maybe cause some havoc." he went back to the main plan. "Kindricks team will come up from the crossroads, on the port side, while we here split and come from both starboard and down this very hall. They've got about thirty thugs in there so be careful, we've agreed that only the flanking teams will use grenades, which means be careful, even if you are just going at the outer line of defenses. On the final note, watch out when we breach, you were all told the same stories as me so watch out. Also be careful, if it comes to it, the best option will be kill."

Heads nodded. "All agreed on the plan?" Thaddeus asked. The heads kept bobbing. "Very well then, let's move."

The huddle broke, the Twins had been parted, the male to go with Thaddeus and the other to go with Wafit, he would also take Kerns and leave the Andorian with Wafit. With his team of four, he sprinted off to get to his position before Wafit and his teams started attacking two minutes from now.


	33. Episode 2: Part 6

**Last time I had a chapter this long it was a battle sequence, sorry to let you down. :P**

 **Part 6**

Once again a corridor was filled with light and fire from a photon grenade, in the wake of the explosion came a blood curdling scream as, completely against orders, the Tellarite replacement for Thaddeus' team charged with two phaser pistols. If it had been any other man, Thaddeus was sure the Orions would have fired, but the seven foot tall oak-like being struck fear into the hearts of even the Orion officer who had survived the blast. In a matter of seconds the massive Tellarite had either killed or scared the remaining Orions at the barricade to surrender. As Thaddeus and the other team members came up, the Tellarite had a muscular Orion pinned to the wall of the corridor. For his age, the Orion seemed like a child at the mercy of the Starfleet Sergeant.

Any Thaddeus could have said would be worthless, he simply ordered the Orion stunned and went on down a turn in the hall. The fighting was sparse now, they had determined that there were only three main defense lines and all other routes were blocked, each line had only two barricades. The second was the junction outside the bridge, which most of the defenders were engaged against Ensign Wafit's teams. It didn't take long for the male Twin to take down the two thugs facing their direction, and a few seconds later they reached the edge of the barrier.

An Orion officer, commonly called an Enforcer, wondered why all of a sudden the men around him were quiet, and the two enemies down the hall had stopped firing, then the sound of a phaser setting being changed right next to his head caused him to turn and see a human and a massive Tellarite standing over him.

Without much hesitation Thaddeus ordered that the prisoners be stunned, all but the Enforcer, and put in a nearby storage room. He ordered the Tellarite to take hold of the Enforcer. Thaddeus stepped up and placed a captured Orion pistol close to the male's head.

"Now Officer," his voice dripped with condescension, "why don't you just tell me how to get unto the bridge?"

Apparently terrified by the massive Tellarite restraining him, the enforcer had no trouble complying. "You can't, we've sealed the doors and placed a shield behind it, the only way in would be to drain the shield and incinerate the door. And even if you did that, Geshku would never give up this ship without a fight, not even if it means destroying it."

Thaddeus stunned the Orion and turned away. He had eight troops, and a door. Wafit checked and confirmed the forcefield, Devvers was too tied up at the moment to try and bring it down. Thaddeus and Wafit set a perimeter while they paced in front of the door and brainstormed. Suddenly, the door grew hot with flame and the center began to melt. Diving back, Thaddeus and Wafit took up a position down the corridor. Rifles trained on the burning rectangle in the door, each finger stroking the trigger and just squeezing it when the square stopped sparking and was kicked outwards.

"Starfleet!" a Pakled voice came from the interior of the bridge.

Thaddeus waved the guns down and stepped out. "Crewman Bobari?"

A head peaked around the edge of the red hot hole cut in the door. It was the small Pakled. Thaddeus sprinted up with Wafit at his heels. They peered through the hole and at the bridge. Thaddeus started to ask where the crew was when he spotted a pile of Orions, hands cuffed and stunned, on the starboard side of the bridge. Both her and Wafit laughed and signaled for the teams to come back and secure the crossroad. They stepped through the hole, careful not to touch the edges and burn themselves, and kept laughing as the only conscious Orion, the female captain by the looks of it, sat with her mouth taped shut. She writhed at their laughter and tried to fight as Bobari picked her up and tossed her unto the pile of others, then stunned her.

By the time he managed to recover, Thaddeus couldn't breath. The whole while they had been fighting and figuring out how to take the bridge, a Pakled had captured the whole damn bridge crew and saved the captain. Thaddeus recovered and decided on their next course of action.

Walking over to the internal comms panel, Thaddeus called up the engine room. Eventually a voice answered, it was Devvers. "Jan! How goes the engines?" Thaddeus asked cheerfully.

"Very well, _Chief_ , I've got Impulse 6.3 on the drawing board, which is more than I ever expected." Thaddeus nodded even though she couldn't see him through voice communications. "How did you get on this shipwide? I thought they sealed the bridge."

"They did, and it only took a young Crewman Bobari to take it from them, and unseal it." Devvers laughed, Bobari had always been called 'Mouse' and hadn't been good at anything, especially rifle training. However, compassionate as she was, Devvers had selected the Crewman as part of her security detail to give the Pakled woman a chance. She apparently was better than Kindrick had thought.

"Tell her she's promoted as soon as we get back to _Chillingsworth._ Say, does that mean the ship is ours then?"

"Indeed, we'll meet on the bridge in ten, I want to make a security sweep top to bottom just in case." Devvers acknowledged and closed the line.

Kindrick, as he had before, organized teams to sweep the ship. It wasn't big, so he ordered his eight troops into four teams and called the security guards in the engine section up to protect the room full of prisoners. He'd try and find a brig to put them in while he searched the ship.

The ship was completely clear, a total of two Orions were found outside of the prisoners, both were slave girls, and in very rough condition, and had no problem cooperating with the Starfleet officers. Damage seemed contained to the outer part of the hull and the aft section, all decks and hold other than the outermost were sealed and airtight. In all, the ship was in okay condition if not for her engines and the power fed into her subsystems, which Devvers quickly resolved with the portable batteries that _Chillingsworth_ had sent over.

Their biggest problem was not speed, but escape. They had no Warp power, and no escape pods for this small ship. And without shields they'd stand no chance if it was discovered that they were no longer under Orion control. The three team leaders stood in a triangle on the bridge while they thought.

Kindrick looked up at Devvers. "What about the transporters?"

Jan went blank for a second while she thought. "We've got them, but this ship is worse than ours, she's got one transporter with only three pads."

Kindrick nodded. "If I'm correct, three may be all we need."

Wafit gave him a quizzical look. "I am an ensign, which aboard a prize vessel makes me the highest rank with the authority to assume command."

"Indeed you are, sir." Kindrick mockingly bowed, the Ensign was Bolian, he always expressed his opinion. "Now what is your biding sir?"

Wafit shook his head and looked at where Crewman Bobari was working at the sensors station. "Sensors report!"

Bobari swung around and gave it. " _Chillingsworth_ is engaged with a large group of Orion vessels near an area of radiation that is jamming all sensor traffic."

"What type of Orions?" Devvers asked.

"There's a very large number of corvettes and two larger cruisers, one is a slaveship."

"What's _Chillingsworth's_ status?" Wafit inquired, walking over to the console the Pakled was seated at.

"She is using the radiation to protect herself, but she is our numbered and cannot engage the enemy's flagship." Wafit asked why she thought there was a flagship, the simple wonder that would cause any man to ask. "For a ship as old and in as bad of shape, it has remarkably good sensors and communications, which managed to survive the battle. I've been monitoring and have found that the slaveship has been sending transmissions to all other ships, and even one to _Chillingsworth_. It appears that the transmission is quite simple and open to the ships, any response is short and similar to the other responses given by the rest of the ships. This is similar to a sensor scenario, I can't remember the number, but it points towards the slaveship being some kind of command vessel."

Wafit bit his lip and turned back to the other commanders. "Well I guess you know how to do something don't you Bobari?" the comment stung the woman, she turned and went back to studying her console. "Well Kindrick, what's your plan?"

Thaddeus had been leaning against one of the structural supports beside the platform with the command chair, he straightened. "Well, since we can't go much faster than Impulse 10, I was going to suggest we head on over there and, now that we have some information, ram the bloody slaveship."

"What about us and our prisoners?"

"I'll have _Chillingsworth_ beam you all up, and the prisoners, then I'll make a run for it and use the transporter to beam myself away."

"Seems like a fine course of action, we of course have to convince the slaveship that we are one of theirs." Devvers protested

"Shouldn't be too hard, we have you to act as a comms officer. We'll say that we were disabled and had to commit repairs, we'll say we aren't combat ready and request to come alongside. When we're just off of them, you will all beam away and I'll veer us in and run like hell."

Wafit kept biting his lip, Devvers looked at Wafit wondering what he thought, and Kindrick rubbed the stupid bristle from where he forgot to shave this morning. Wafit finally made his decision. "Fine, we'll go in and beam away, but I don't want you staying behind to pilot it yourself. Jan, I want you to have one of your men set up a subroutine that will activate the maneuvering thrusters and shift the direction of flight into the slaveship, make sure it can be altered according to our position relative to the slaveship."

They all nodded and Devvers set off to ready the engines to get under way. Thaddeus picked up his rifle from where he had laid it and went to check on the prisoners while Wafit remained on the bridge to command the ship.

They were about to commit.

(Author's note)

 _So. . .as we can see, dialogue is not my strong spot, and apparently neither is action sequences. I may mention that my strong point is mainly exposition, I wrote a NaNoWriMo and it turned out 80% of the book was exposition, no kidding. I just want you ask that you forgive me for the clumsiness of this chapter and continue reading. I hear people say all the time "People think your writing is boring in your head, in truth they'll love it." so I really want to hear feedback from this chapter and wanna say thank you to all who have continued to read._

 _A big note I want to leave to you guys is that content is going to slow down greatly, very soon, week after next, I am going on a trip and won't either be able to reach my computer, or post chapters of this story. I do plan to take my computer and discreetly do some typing (I don't like people looking at any of my typing), but will probably not upload any content since I'll be hanging out with friends when not riding in a car. Also, no content this weekend or the next (before I go on my trip) I have engagements and may take my computer but will probably end up not typing at all._

 _So, since I'm going to be gone for awhile, how about some feedback? I know I have three story followers and one favorite, and I want to at least hear an honest review from them. I want you guys to take part in the this story, I already intend to follow the main story but those of you who play the game can give me advice if you like, maybe a prompt for an intermediary episode, or even a secondary character. While I'm at it I also want to explain a few things._

 _In Star Trek Online, which this is based off of, the character receives a new ship for each new factor 10 rank they receive (10, 20, 30, 40 etc,) and of course I'm sure some of you really like certain ships you command. I personally like the Vesper-class and the Galaxy-class, as well as some others in the Escort and Science vessels, hence why the Kolibri from Episode 1 was a Nova-class. And I intend to give different characters different ships, except Archie Sumner: He's is pretty much going to stay aboard the Kolibri as much as possible and work kind of like a Section 31 pawn, as much as he hates it._

 _I also intend to extend the amount of time certain things in the game take. STO pictures the character as a person who is exceptional, I intend to make my characters less exceptional and more like struggling captains (as we all know, the BEST Captain Kirk was a lieutenant before a captain) who get in trouble and have to deal with the consequences. I would like to extend the campaign against the Klingons, Gorn, and Orions to where it last towards 2415 (in the game it assumes that a whole lot of things happen in one year, seeing that the first mention of time since 2409 is sometime after the Cardassian struggle as 2410, this is illogical) where we then move to more fighting with the Orion Syndicate at Nimbus and eventually to the Romulan war in 2419. I have hopes that there will be peace after than, until a short month long spat with the True Way and Jem'Hadar, and then a relative time of peace before war with the Borg and so on. Lots is to come, but I have more things to explain in this chapter._

 _On any question of ranks I have worked that out._

 _First I'd like to classify two different ranking systems: Rank, and Grade._

 _Rank concerns your post, who you are and what you do where, Rank is something that goes with a mission and gives you authority to give orders inside your sector. Chief Kindrick is a Chief Sergeant and Security Chief aboard the USS Chillingsworth, yet under him is the Bolian Ensign Adoq Wafit, who was injured on the First and was asked by the security staff not to take his place as Head of Security and knock Kindrick off his pedestal. The fact is that Kindrick outranks Wafit, but does not outgrade him. When off ship, and not on a mission, Wafit is a higher grade and has authority over Chief Kindrick, while on ship Kindrick has full authority over the Ensign. Grade is determined by the collar, Rank is determined by where you stand on a ship. If a Commander was assigned to a ship under Lieutenant, say as the Tactical Officer, the Commander would be under the Lieutenant because the Lieutenant outranks him. However, once off ship, the Commander would outrank the Lieutenant, who would of course salute and give full military courtesy required he give. Simple? I hope you understand._

 _Finally I will explain my ranks, Enlisted to Commissioned:_

 _Enlisted ranks: These ranks are reserved for crewmen who hold almost no authority, these ranks change from job to job, most of the time however, they are called Crewmen._

 _Crewman (No authority, most basic trooper with least amount of training slowly mentored up through the ranks.)_

 _Crewman 2_ _nd_ _Class (Slightly more important, still little qualifications, usually has learned to hold down at least two positions.)_

 _Crewman 1_ _st_ _Class (Still of little importance other than their ability to do the labor, 1_ _st_ _Class Crew know the basics of at least six jobs in their division, these are usually very basic jobs.)_

 _[There are several different forms of the Crewman rank, one of the most common is the Yard and Contingent ranks:_

 _Yard Hand_

 _Yard Hand 2_ _nd_ _Class_

 _Yard Hand 1_ _st_ _Class_

 _Marine_

 _Marine 2_ _nd_ _Class_

 _Marine 1_ _st_ _Class_

 _These are mainly seen in Starfleet Spacedocks or military bases]_

 _NCO Ranks: These ranks are for former Crewman, who will spend at least a year learning how to become an NCO, or former crewman and civilians who have gone through the special courses at the Berlin and Beijing Arms and learned a specific trade. These Non-Commissioned Officers will fill a majority of the space on a ship's roster as the low- to mid-ranks of the class._

 _Sergeant (Workforce of the Federation, Sergeants have received in depth training at their post and make up seventy percent of the Starfleet Enlisted Corps.)_

 _Master Sergeant (Usually a little more fluent in abilities, or is needed to have authority over a group of soldiers, Master Sergeants are rare and there are only a few per ship division.)_

 _Chief Sergeants (Top dog of the ships, Chief Sergeants command entire divisions and groups aboard starships, and on smaller ships are the head of security. Chiefs command divisions under the supervision of an officer, but have full authority over divisions like Security [on smaller ships] and cargo loading. Cargo Chiefs are usually called Loadmasters or Load Chiefs. Chiefs are a vital factor and commonly have several years of experience and are elderly, however special training has begun to teach Crewmen and Sergeants. It is an intensive program and currently has a ninety percent dropout rate.)_

 _Ship's First Sergeant (Common on ships with smaller crews and an equal balance between enlisted and officers. Ship's First Sergeants, usually just called First Sergeants, maintain authority over all Enlisted on a ship. They usually come along in situations with and exceptionally large enlisted participation, or a small amount of professional enlisted. First Sergeants are most utilized in the Security and Marine contingents.)_

 _[There is a small group of Warrants, an intermediary rank between officer and enlisted, that numbered less than a hundred in 2409. Warrants were conceived to be officers who were exception NCOs who were not allowed into the Academy or one of its Arms. As they were not an Officer or an Enlisted, Warrants were usually treated badly and given a large amount of paper work to do, a department head or a prominent department officer, a Lieutenant (j.g) for example, would be thankful for a Warrant because they were basically required to place an over demanding amount of work on the Warrant. A Warrant was laughed at by officers and despised by enlisted for the fact that they were trying to make their way up the ranks without the proper education. Warrants currently play little part in Starfleet and are more of a thorn in the Officer Corps side than a help to anyone—as stated by the Officer Corps. Warrants come in classes just like Crewmen, yet their insignia, unlike other enlisted which is always on the shoulder, is on the collar of their uniform in the form of an oval bar that has the abbreviation of their rank on it._

 _Warrant 5_ _th_ _Class ([Abbreviation: W5C] This rank is Bronze with the abbreviation on it.)_

 _Warrant 4_ _th_ _Class ([Abbreviation: W4C] This rank is Bronze with the abbreviation on it.)_

 _Warrant 3_ _rd_ _Class ([Abbreviation: W3C] This rank is Silver with the abbreviation on it.)_

 _Warrant 2_ _nd_ _Class ([Abbreviation: W2C] This rank is Silver with the abbreviation on it.)_

 _Warrant 1_ _st_ _Class ([Abbreviation: W1C] This rank is Gold with the abbreviation on it. W1Cs trying to promote to Ensign are required to hold the rank for six months before they take a very strenuous test in a limited amount of time. If failed the W1C is knocked back to W2C and left there for six months, they must go through the same procedure to take their test again. It is said to take no less than a year, from the time of promotion to W1C, for a W1C to make Ensign.)_

 _Warrant play little role in Starfleet as of yet, since there are less than one hundred they also do not have a representative or their own Corps.]_

 _Officer Ranks: The Commissioned ranks of the Starfleet are based of the standard naval ranks for most countries of today. For one who is not use to studying these ranks, it may be confusing. Officers are the backbone of Starfleet, they are specially training in a single area with a sub-curricula in another area that doubles how important they are. Officers are primarily trained in San Francisco and are commissioned as Ensigns after a four years at the academy for a regular curriculum. Officer who have intents of entering the special Command School must first pass regular curriculum and then pass with entering grades and perform admirably judged by the leader of the class for that year. Command School graduates are almost always given a First Officer slot if their first assignment is a training ship, a ship that is launched with a raw crew and captain who has spent several years teaching at the academy, and is guaranteed to command either to be a Lieutenant or Lieutenant Commander within two years. These Command Officer usually start off commanding a small ship like a Frigate, Light Science Vessel, Light Escort, Science Vessel, or Escort and will be promoted at a slower rate after that. Other officers with regular four year educations may have to wait five to ten years from commissioning to receive their first command, many, commonly engineers, will never receive a permanent command. Science Officer tend to receive a ship built for exploration, Intrepid, Nova, and Oberth-class ships, Tactical Officers are spread among the other units such as Escorts and Cruisers._

 _Officer Ranks, non-Flag:_

 _Ensign (Lowest Commissioned rank other than Acting-Ranks which are usually Cadets who have been given temporary command of their vessel. Equivalent to a 21_ _st_ _Century, US Armed Forces, excluding Navy, 2_ _nd_ _Lieutenant.)_

 _Lieutenant Junior Grade (Slightly higher than a Ensign, has little more authority but commands a department aboard a ship under a Lieutenant Commander or regular Lieutenant. Equivalent of a US Armed Forces 1_ _st_ _Lieutenant.)_

 _Lieutenant (Equivalent of a US Armed Forces Captain. Sometimes trusted with command of a small vessel such as a Oberth or a NX-01 Light Escort, the rank of lieutenant is the common rank for a Department Head, which is under a Division Head, aboard a ship under a full Captain. A Lieutenant may be given a command if they are acting-Captain, or if their previous captain has departed and they are in appointed Captain. In a situation where the Captain on a training cruise has been killed or incapacitated, an officer not of the ship will promote the First Officer to Acting-Lieutenant so they have proper authority over the ship.)_

 _Lieutenant Commander (Equivalent of a US Armed Forces Major. Lieutenant Commanders usually command a small vessel, or a Constitution-cargo ship, and are possibly the most numerous rank in Starfleet. Aboard a ship under a full Captain, a Lieutenant Commander would command a division [Engineering, Tactical, Sciences, Medical, Special Air Division] and be either a Second or Third Officer. Lieutenant Commanders most extreme job would be commanding a Cruiser, such as an Excalibur or a Vesper, which currently hasn't been built in 2409.)_

 _Commander (Equivalent of a US Armed Forces Lieutenant Colonel. Commanders are probably the most widespread group concerning jobs. A Commander can hold by a Division Head or the captain of a NX-01 Escort, or any number of jobs and posts. Commander's most usual job is that of First Officer aboard a ship with a full Captain, they commonly will hold down another Division head as well, usually this is Sciences or Engineering, and command a wide variety of ships. They could command Heavy Cruisers and Tactical Escorts such as the Cheyenne and Vigilant-classes. It was considered that many more crew and power than that should only be intrusted to a Starfleet Captain.)_

 _Captain (Equivalent of a US Armed Forces Colonel. Captains are the big boys of Starfleet, they command everything from a ship with fifty crew to one with over a thousand. Captains most commonly command ships more recent in design or construction. classes like the Excalibur, Vesper, Galaxy and Variants, Sovereign and Variants, Defiant and Variants, and many more are commanded by these choice men and women. Science Captains command usually a science vessel of 150 crew and up, such as the 25_ _th_ _Century built Discovery-class, but there were very few of such in 2409. These men and women make up the greatest of portion of Starfleet's force of powerful fighting ships.)_

 _[Starfleet commanding officers usually wear what is known as the Odyssey Uniform, or Duty Dress, their uniform always consists of loose fitting pants and the shoulders of their jacket being white. All commanding officer uniforms are cut to fit the wearer perfectly, which means sometimes brand new captains may not receive their uniform immediately. Starfleet ship commanders vary in grade, which means that sometimes the Lieutenant Commander may be captaining a ship, and be referred to as 'Captain' this is quite common. Honorary ranks are given to Federation chartered ship captains, they mean more however if they are Starfleet chartered freighters or transports. When a ship is commissioned under a former captain with a completely non-Starfleet crew, the entire crew is made honorary members until otherwise accepted and given rank according to low ranking officers assigned to the ship. This is the case for the USS Kolibri.]_

 _Flag Officers: These are the actual big boys who control the show, each rank has a command under it, each command grows larger with the increase in rank._

 _Commodore (Something in between Captain and Admiral, commonly Commodores are commonly called "To young for Admiral, to good for Captain." Commodores command small task forces and maybe a squadron of ten to twenty-five ships. A Commodore can also have no command and simply be a diplomatic aide to an Admiral, such as Patrick Reddy will one day become to Admiral T'nae. Commodore is currently an unpopular rank given when a man needs authority over a group of senior captains. Commodore George Horrocks is eventually given command of the Una Fleet when it is decided to retake the Vega System.)_

 _Rear Admiral, Lower Half (Equivalent of a US Armed Forces Brigadier General. The lowest rank of Admiral given, it is meant for men who hold a certain position in a certain area. A Rear Admiral may command from twenty-five to seventy-five ships, usually fifty is the norm, or may be charged with command of a small station, just like a Commodore would. Rear Admirals come in both Lower and Upper Half, both are practically the same.)_

 _Rear Admiral, Upper Half (Equivalent of a US Armed Forces Major General. Mostly the same as the Rear Admiral Lower Half, except slightly more duties, usually a Lower and Upper half will be paired to work together in a single department.)_

 _Vice Admiral (Equivalent of a US Armed Forces Major General. Vice Admiral commonly are commanding a fleet or a much larger space station, Rear Admiral Jorel Quinn eventually is promoted and given management of Earth Spacedock, Vice Admiral T'nae commands Starbase 39 in the Sierra system such a rank is very high and hard to achieve, the wearer of this rank usually commands somewhere between a hundred and two hundred vessels in a fleet. However, in 2409, very few fleets were formed or used. Only one fleet was actually organized under a Rear Admiral which was the Home Fleet defending the Sol System.)_

 _Admiral (Equivalent of a US Armed Forces General [Four Star General]. An Admiral may also command a full fleet but commonly holds a seat on the Starfleet Council or in the Federation Council.)_

 _Fleet Admiral (Equivalent of a US Armed Forces General of the Air Force. Otherwise known as a Council Admiral, Fleet Admirals have little to do with Fleets and commonly hold what is known as the Higher Seats, Vice Admirals hold the lower seats along side Rear Admirals and attempt to convince three of the five Seats to a certain bill or order. At one time there will be no more than seven Fleet Admirals, all are members of the Starfleet Council, otherwise known as High Command.)_

 _Admiral of Starfleet (Commander-and-Chief of Starfleet, only in war time is this rank commissioned and given to the President of the Federation of Planets. When war is not officially declared, such as the hostilities with Gorn, Orion, and Klingons, and in peace time, command is given to Starfleet High Command/Council.)_

 _If You Have Read This Far I Commend You._

 _And definitely suggest seeing a doctor._


	34. Episode 2: Part 7

**Part 7**

Once again _Chillingsworth_ shook as an ill aimed torpedo managed to find her. Unlike Federation ships, Orion vessels were not designed to fight without sensors. Ever since the _Enterprise_ -A engaged the _Reliant_ in a nebula, as well as some other occasions, starships were given an Auxiliary Fire Control that controlled the weapon systems when it was required that they be fired without sensor data. The man in that room was Smelly. Although down with a small virus, the Ferengi could call a correction and land a shot before the first phaser bank was cooled down. He shots landed with rather deadly accuracy and had already waved a number of corvettes off, and destroyed the more able of the cruisers. Now they had to deal with the very focused and massed fire of the slaveship and her screen of corvettes. The captain of this task force, obviously an intelligent commander, had pulled her force together and created a screen of corvettes along with her remaining cruiser. While unable to get a sensor lock, they used the sheer bulk of their fire, sent in _Chillingsworth's_ general direction, to land a few hits on the Federation frigate. Although powerful, Sam had dealt considerable casualties to the slaveship's fleet. Currently, for all Sam could guess, the slaveship captain was probably two torpedo barrages short of sending all her corvettes in to ram her.

"We still can't locate the _Azura_ , we cannot send the _Warrior_ out due to Gorn ships in the area." Vazzut stated.

Sam was losing her nerve too, they had been dancing for what appeared to be an entire hour, their torpedo supply was below fifty percent and they she was tired of dancing about and growing tired of this routine of fire and run, return, repeat. She sat heavily in her command chair and sucked a knuckle.

"Fifteen corvettes, if only we could even the odds a little and strike at that slaveship, if we could scare her off. What would it take?" she hit the palm of her left hand on her arm rest, the irritation was growing more intense.

Suzanne stepped up and spoke low. "I think, they just want us dead, and they think of us only as a thorn in their sides. I feel that they wouldn't be expecting a couple of scenarios."

Sam looked up at the tall New Yorker. "What are you suggesting other than a suicide mission."

"A long shot, something that may only work once, if it does work." the blonde stated, staring at the viewscreen and the green energy beams bracketing it.

"Please, explain it to us Lieutenant." Sam raised her voice so the whole bridge could hear.

Suzanne stepped between the helm and navigation spots and turned. "We have just over forty torpedoes left, which means, if we spare ten, two torpedoes for each ship, or three for five ships. Any number can be ascertained from that, but the biggest idea is that we can still bite quite harshly if we try."

"But we have no way to use them effectively, our sensors don't work in this muck, and nothing I can do will help them." Sooroo protested.

Suzanne pressed her fingers together and pressed the pointer and middle to her mouth. "Indeed, we'd have to leave the radiation cloud for several seconds to regain sensor effectivity, which would expose us to enemy fire." She paced beneath the main viewscreen, she turned suddenly and pointed a finger at Sam. "Unless, we leave the cloud and dump all our spare power to the shields. Orion systems call power from a single source, phasers and shields take power from the engines, which means if we make a 'break' for it and fool them, without firing, we may cause them to divert power to their engines and weapons, severely weakening their shields."

"I still don't see the plan you draw here, even if the shields are down, we can only fire so many torpedoes at once, and by the time they realize we're firing back they'll dump power into their shields and we may not make it back home in time."

Suzanne was relentless still. "However, if Sooroo can program a particle or energy burst meant to affect shields, we may be able to drop shield power for a number of ships in a small area low enough to use torpedoes to destroy them. It doesn't take much with the smaller ships, and with the extra shield power we can do some serious damage with limited damage."

Sam caught on and was intrigued. She stood. "So you think we can focus on say, five or six ships, and if we destroy them we've got disarray?"

"Exactly, judging by what we've seen, and done, we can demoralize the other captains, maybe to the point of desertion." Suzanne clapped her hands.

Sam spun and faced Sooroo. "About that energy beam?"

Sooroo had already been working on it. "I'm positive we can do something, it may not affect the shields directly, but it may affect their power systems, meaning that they'll have to draw more power from shields to the engines and weapons."

Sam was excited, this plan was something she had once dreamed of in the _Maru_ simulation but had never thought it would apply to real life. But there was still the problem of the torpedo launchers. "Jenny," she got close and placed one hand on the console and the other on the back of Shay's chair. "please tell me we can modify the torpedoes to fire thirty torpedoes in a couple of seconds."

Shay looked Sam like she was crazy. "You're talking about a lot of torpedoes in single tube in a few seconds, aimed at different targets nonetheless."

Sam slapped the woman's shoulder. "Get it done, you have ten minutes." she turned to Sooroo. "Get that energy beam ready. Helm, same old routine, I'm going to Main Engineering to fill Mister Goldsby in on our plan."

Feeling guilty, Sam all but ran off the bridge. She had to get off, she felt almost claustrophobic in the room and the tension was close to making her explode and go everywhere at once. Once away from the bridge and on the empty hallway to Main Engineering she sprinted, trying to run the stress of combat and the excitement of the plan from her body. She was shivering and under a world of stress. She finally stopped outside the control room that she'd find Ray in. Just as she was about to open the door, Ray came storming out and was caught of guard by the panting and winded Sam O'Connell outside his control room door.

He recovered quickly and began to berate Sam about something concerning engine demand, weapons, or shields. In all she wasn't in the mood to deal with it; eventually she told him to shut up.

Stepping into the room she dragged Ray behind her. "Ray, it's hard to explain, but we're going to try a coup-de-main. It's hard to explain, but we can't keep this up and I don't want to get caught in a tail chase through this radiation cloud, so we've decided to shoot things up and haul ass out of here."

After explaining the whole plan, Ray responded slowly. He stroked his chin, which was covered in a thin, but well kept, beard. He eventually looked at a shield technician. "T'Gill? Think it's possible?"

The Vulcan swung his chair around. "Indeed sir, but might I add a similar situation that the USS _Walker_ went through on a few days ago?"

"Very well." Sam had saved time by running down here, and she was interested in what this Vulcan might say.

"Captain, Mister Goldsby, two days ago, we all know that Lieutenant Commander Reddy dropped out in the Pollux system to engage a group of Klingons. When it turned out that he was ready for combat, the Klingons decided not to fight, and remained hidden. However, Commander Reddy's engineer was able to create a power situation that made it seem as though the warp engines were charged, which they were to an extent, then when the Klingons uncloaked they switched all power over into the weapons and shields and thus staved off the attack, but at a cost that could have destroyed the power grid for their shields." Both officer nodded as the comment slowly sank in.

"So we can do it right?" Sam asked.

"Indeed," Ray turned towards her. "but not without a measurable risk that could tip the scales quite suddenly."

Sam didn't need to think, it was do or do nothing, and she couldn't stand the latter anymore. "Do it, and have it done in five minutes." She turned to hear T'Gill say something about that having a low percent chance of being completable but it was drowned by Ray barking at the man to get on his calculations.

With her job done, Sam walked back to the bridge. When she passed crew in the hall they seemed slightly confused as to why their captain was off the bridge during a Red Alert, and also why she had been running moments before. More composed she took extra time making her way through the decks to the bridge, stopping now and then to speak to DC crews and a couple of security teams. By the time she stepped unto the bridge Ray had called in and that the necessary changes had been made and that Warp energy could be dumped into the shields as soon as they knew they were going to take a large amount of damage. He had also arranged that the starboard bow thrusters be overcharged so that they could 'fly away' then quickly come about and launch the torpedoes needed.

The torpedoes, apparently, were the biggest problem. Being a Crossed Frigate—or unclassed-frigate— _Chillingsworth's_ torpedo launching systems weren't exactly to date. Her one forward and aft torpedo tubes could fire roughly one hundred twenty torpedoes a minute, which meant two every second, where a state of the art ship could launch as many as three of five a second from multiple tubes. The problem was unsolvable, trying to overload the hydraulics could result in a system malfunctions, which could knock a torpedo askew on the track, and cause a misfire, which would be more than just deadly. Sam admitted that it was dangerous and decided that the shock factor of suddenly concentrated and accurate weapons fire would be enough to unbalance the Orion battleline.

At last, after ten minutes of hard and frantic work, Suzanne reported that all stations were ready. Then Vazzut cut in.

"Captain, pardon my interruption, but another Orion corvette is entering the formation, it's reporting that it is heavily damaged and wishes cannot warp away or achieve higher than Impulse 10. She says she has _Orion Starfleet_ prisoners."

Sam smiled, simply the phrasing was something the Welshman would come up with to fool an illiterate Orion captain. "Ensign, put me through on a secure channel, best scramble you know." Vazzut nodded and signaled that he had connection. Sam punched one of her comms buttons. "Kindrick you sneaky little—"

"Your opinion of me doesn't exactly matter as of now, I'll be glad to here it over some Saurian Brandy later sir."

Sam shook her head, not many knew she had never taken a drink, and never intended to. "Chief, what's the status of your crew?"

"Top notch, not a scratch. We've also got some fifteen Orion prisoners on board." Sam was about to speak when Kindrick cut her off. "Sir, I know you may want to keep this corvette, but she's not worth much anymore, and we already have set up a plan to ram her into the battleship. All I need is you to beam my crew and prisoners up, and give me the go ahead."

Sam sat up a little straighter when she heard that. "Thaddeus, you realize that you're flying an upper hand and a prize of war. Right?"

She could hear the man laugh on the other end of the line. "More like a pinky and a enemy's sock. Captain, this ship is torn to hell and won't go far unless the drydock comes to her. I think it would be more profitable to ram her into the slaveship than anything else, now if you think she can be useful, I won't use her as a ram, but I don't want my security staff aboard something like this."

Sam rubbed her hands together while she quickly thought. Sooroo caught her attention and she cut the microphone briefly. "Captain," the alien started. "I've just calculated the amount of chaos Chief Sergeant Kindrick's action might cause. Sir. . .it would be considerably more than anything we could do with a surprise attack."

Sam tried to shut off the world for a second, for some reason she didn't want to. It felt like a thing of pride, she had send fifteen personnel over there and they had captured. She formed a brief image of her flying into Earth orbit, on one side was the _Azura_ , the other an Orion corvette in tow with her security officer aboard. She was brought from the dream by Suzanne.

"Captain." she said low, softly, like the woman Sam had been sleeping with, not the officer who was second-in-command.

It had to be done, whether liked or not. Sam painfully slapped the microphone switch. "Mister Kindrick, in exactly five minutes I want you to assign you ship's weapons to automatically fire into the Orion battleline. We will begin beaming your teams over as well as your prisoners. Once your weapons begin firing set a collision course with the Orion capital ship. O'Connell out." she closed the line.

A soft hand was on her shoulder, she shook it away and stood to pace again. For four mminutes she paced, then came the report. Lieutenant Mckahan had memorized the plan, she had formed the entire thing, she would have the conn throughout the ordeal.

The time came and Sam stepped away to stand over the Engineering station at the back of the bridge while Suzanne stood in front of the command chair. Once again Sam stood filled with tension, her fingers drummed her thighs when her hands weren't swing front to back. Her feet tapped and she constantly shifted her seating and view, looking at each of the bridge crew in turn.

Once the main planning was done she leaned over the farthest right panel of the engineer's station, which wasn't in use, and viewed the whole tactical situation as they commenced action.

As the clock of four and a half minutes struck, _Chillingsworth_ channeled all extra power to engines and her shields and blasted forward on the Orion's left flank. As they moved out they became bracketed by a hundred energy beams, the ship shook as torpedoes exploded against the shields and disruptor beams managed to cut through the shields. For thirty seconds on a course away from the battle group they endured the shaking and the fire, then the report came that Kindrick's ship had begun firing. Immediately a corvette exploded and was engulfed in fire from a torpedo hit in it's engineering.

"Now!" cried Suzanne and the ship was jerked about by overloaded bow thrusters. The great armada came into the forward view and _Chillingsworth's_ speed was cut off to focus all power on shields and weapons. She let hell loose. Someone had taken some risk, and the next five seconds was filled by fifteen torpedoes from the single tube, each one bound for a different corvette. Calculated to hit all at once, the screen was filled with light as five corvettes exploded almost simultaneously. A second later there was a blast, this one was unknown until Shay let out a cry and all eyes turned to the slaveship.

She was heeling over, her starboard going up as the body of a corvette powered into her. Finally, fire began to spread from the splintering hull of Kindrick's corvette until the air was burned away and all that was left was a floating hulk in space, detaching itself from the slaveship and moving slowly on in the battle. The other Orions were confused, not only had another two of their kind exploded, their capital ship was dieing, all at once they began to break. A dozen ships warped off in different directions, leaving only two crippled corvettes, and a very angry cruiser.

Sam, concerned about her command, stepped to her chair and relieved Suzanne, she sat and leaned back. "Helm, take us broadside to the cruiser, designate Target-Alpha Tango, weapons to maximum and firing. Engines back online, two quarters impulse power, try and get us on her aft."

"Aye sir." said the Pakled. _Chillingsworth_ came about and focused her four phaser arrays on their target. With true and clear target information, as well as a much larger target, their phasers cut a chunk from the cruiser. After several seconds of maintained fire, and the dropping of whatever shield remained, Sam ordered them to heel away, and for the aft torpedo launcher to lock on and fire as it bore. The cruiser broke up, her structural integrity failed as she pulled apart and began to spread. Sam was thankful for the distance separating them so that she couldn't see bodies beginning to float freely in the vacuum space. They had seen that earlier when a corvette broke up only a few meters from the bridge, almost causing hull breaches in the process.

Without pausing for an extended period of time, Sam ordered that the slaveship be destroyed. A few torpedoes would have done nothing to it under normal circumstances, but the ship tipping unto her side had exposed the damaged hull from where Kindrick had hit it. It didn't last either.

Thinking of Kindrick, Sam slapped her comm button to the transporter room. "Kindrick?" she asked hopefully.

A Tellarite voice came back. "So sorry Captain, but we don't have him or Lieutenant Devvers."

Sam was dumbstruck. "Devvers?"

"Yes sir, she decided to stay over there and they'd use the transporter to get off the ship, wouldn't have helped anyway sir."

Sam's brow creased. "Why?"

The Tellarite sighed. "Well sir, all do respect, our deflectors were up when they were scheduled to beam in, they either beamed to another place or died on that ship sir." he spoke as respectfully as a Tellarite could.

Sam closed the channel and took a moment to hold her head in her hands. All that planning, all that excitement, and the whole time she hadn't even thought about Kindrick beaming in, and now he was probably dead.

Very cautiously, Sooroo turned her chair and announced. "Captain, I've located a general area of the distress signal, the Orions have left even my mid-range scans, I don't think they'll be back for awhile."

Sam kept her head in her hands, she didn't speak for almost a minute. When she did look up her eyes weren't red, at least not with tears. "Helm, set course for the coordinates the Science Officer provides, then commence a Mark One search pattern, also see that _Warrior_ is launched and contributes to the search pattern."

Sam stood and walked from the bridge.


	35. Episode 2: Part 8

**Part 8**

Kindrick slowly stood and wiped dust from his uniform, at first he was expecting to see a gleaming silver and gray reception like you usually received when coming aboard a starship, he suddenly realized that this wasn't any Federation starship, and the pistol aimed at him proved that. Once you got past the shock of a gun aimed at you, you realized what was behind. And Thaddeus saw that the woman's shirt was torn, her legs bloody, and hair ragged as if someone had been pulling on it. The gun was held in the left hand and her right tried to keep the pieces of her brown tunic together. The gun was shaking, and her eyes darted back and forth between Thaddeus and Devvers who was trying to recover from the rather violent energization.

"Who are you?" she stuttered.

Thaddeus slowly brought his hands to his shoulders. "I'm Chief Sergeant Kindrick, and this is Lieutenant Junior Grade Devvers; we're with Starfleet, we're friends."

The woman, looking like some kind of very pale skinned Vulcan, dropped the gun and fell into Thaddeus' arms. Devvers helped him lower her to the ground. In their arms she was cold, her back covered in blood and her clothes ripped as if an animal had attacked her.

After some soft spoken questions she gave a cohesive answer. They had been boarded and one had gone for her to do. . .to do things. Apparently once they learned that the warp core was going critical they had decided to let Captain Danna Brott go about her business of trying to repair it while they looted the ship and beamed away. The last caused both of the officers to look at each other. Just as she spoke it she coughed and continued to shiver.

Jan leaned in close and whispered at a barely audible level. "She's lost too much blood." Thaddeus nodded and slowly pulled a hypo from one of his pouches, he placed it against the woman's chest and discharged it. The chemical was a depressant, she stopped shivering and closed her eyes, whisked away to short sleep before her heart would stop beating.

It was at that precise moment, as Thaddeus and Lieutenant Devvers stood up and looked at the woman as her life slipped away, that the hatch to the transporter room slid open and two Orions carrying a container stopped at the sight of two Starfleet officers in their combat uniforms. It became a quick draw, and the Starfleeters won with their months of learning how to draw and fire quickly. The two Orions dropped down with smoldering holes in their chests from the highly charged pistols. Another two came around the corner, guns drawn and firing. Thaddeus and Devvers dodged to either side, Thaddeus leaned back out and caught the shoulder of the nearest, Devvers dropped the second with a low charged stun blast. They sprinted forward and peered down the hall, nothing. While Devvers covered the hall, Thaddeus stood over the stunned Orion and placed a foot on the area which had been stunned.

"How many men are aboard this ship!" Thaddeus said. The Orion writhed in pain as he applied more pressure to the agonized spot. He called out in pain and Thaddeus pressed harder and asked again.

"Fifteen, there's fifteen of us!" he cried. Thaddeus stepped off and fired his fully charged weapon into the Orion's head. Devvers stepped up and pulled the gun from his grasp.

She looked at him with disbelief. "You killed him in cold blood Thaddeus!"

Thaddeus snatched his gun back and pointed to the Orion's hands, he wore a set of fabricated replacements of a crude Orion design, they were claws similar to a Saur. Jan stood there for several seconds taking it in, this Orion looked like he was Kindrick's age, she looked up and Thaddeus signaled for her to follow him.

By Thaddeus' reckoning, they were somewhere near the forward hold of the _Azura_ , and they would have to run aft judging by the shaking of the ship. Thaddeus had planned to use the main access hallways, but coming upon a ship panel, which he used to hack into the security system, he noticed that almost all the rooms had been breached, signaling that if they met Orions, they'd meet them along there. He sorted out another path, through the ship's bowels near the heaters, and set out for it at a run that Devvers was sure she couldn't keep up with.

The _Azura_ was somewhere around four hundred meters long, they were three-fifty from the engine room, Thaddeus' sprint was prolonged until Devvers yelled at him to stop. She bent over and tried to catch her breath.

She looked up at the young Welshman. "What's gotten into you Chief?"

Thaddeus shifted his weight to one leg and tilted his head in frustration. "Jan, do you really think this is the time for me to explain my feelings?"

Devvers straightened and came closer, she placed a hand on his shoulder. She didn't know what to say. Thaddeus observed the hand. "I'm fed up with it Jan, that woman was raped, hell she was all but mauled by an animal. Any other officer might have taken him prisoner, but I'm not." He stepped away and pulled at his hair. "I'm tired of Starfleet politicking everything into the ground, it's not fair for the victims. I've been in Starfleet longer than you, and I know what politicking is, I've seen it." he turned back and pointed an accusing finger at the Orion officer. "My sister was thirty when she joined the Starfleet Merchant, she didn't ask to be raped by her captain, and she didn't get a defense either!"

Jan grabbed his hand. She pulled him in close to her and looked down into his angry eyes. "I know pain Thaddeus, I'm liberated, and I was lucky just to be whipped and not anything else." Thaddeus tried to pull away but her strong arms held him still. "Let's save this ship, but let's do it as a team, not as an Orion and a human. Okay?"

Thaddeus gave up and relaxed, Jan let him loose and he rubbed his face in embarrassment. "Fine." he said. "Let's go." they took off again at a slightly slower pace until they reached the engine section. They came up at the rear of the room and caused a Klingon-Human to leap into the air in terror at the Orion woman coming through the floor.

Kindrick was right behind her yelling. "It's okay, it's okay, we're with Starfleet." he stepped around a computer panel to have a pistol shoved in his face. The being on the other end was Bolian, presumably Captain Brott.

"She's Orion, how do I know you just don't really look like a human, I've seen them before."

Kindrick put his hands up. "Chief Sergeant Thaddeus Kindrick, USS _Chillingsworth_ , this is Lieutenant Junior Grade Devvers."

Brott looked at the woman. "Orions have killed most of my crew," she trained the weapon on Jan. "so tell me why I shouldn't fry you!"

Thaddeus reached over and plucked the gun from her grasp, Brott leaned over and clutched her hand from where he had twisted the gun away. He dropped the gun away and shoved his back into it's holster. "We mean no harm, we're with Starfleet and are here to help."

Brott stared for a moment and gave up. "I don't want to work with her, but I'll work with you. How many men do you have?"

Thaddeus spoke. "Just us, we beamed off a corvette we had stolen just as we slammed it into the Orion capital ship."

Brott didn't seem to believe him. "Really." she said sarcastically.

Thaddeus ignored the comment. "What's the status of your ship?"

Brott cast one last glance at Devvers and walked over to a console. The ship shook and Thaddeus could see that the warp core had turned an unhealthy color. "We dropped out to cool off our warp core when we realized that this area was swarming with Orions, thankfully we managed to hide in this radiation cloud, but not before they beamed a few teams aboard and captured us. That's when our containment started to fail, most of the crew was dead or almost dead by the time they captured me and my engineers, they let us go so we could try and save the ship."

Thaddeus restrained from quoting a regulation about aiding the enemy. "How many do you have alive?"

Brott looked at him. "Us three and maybe a few who managed to hide. Anyway, I've been trying to improve warp containment but haven't had any luck, it seems as though you received my distress call."

"Indeed," Devvers spoke. "and so did most of the Orions in this sector, this entire are was swarming with them."

"Well I'm glad you're such a help." Brott seethed. "Either way, containment is starting to fail, and I've got Orions on board, I'd like it if you could save my crew. I'll try and hold off the core until it blows."

Thaddeus nodded and pulled Devvers aside. "What do you know about warp cores Jan?"

"Not a whole lot."

"Can you at least help Brott, I'm going to lead these two engineers back to transporter room and hide them away until we can beam to _Chillingsworth_."

Jan rolled her eyes. "I won't help with the warp core, but I will try to make contact with _Chillingsworth_ and ask her to come beam us up."

Thaddeus was about to say something but Brott had told the two crewmen about the officers and they were waiting for him near the hatch he had come from.

He set off for the transporter room with the two crewmen. They were scared and tired, the going was slow and it took much too long for him to urge them to the transporter room. When he arrived he turned to what appeared to be the smarter of the two. He waved a hand around the room.

"Anywhere to hide?"

The Klingon-human tried not to, but his eyes strayed to a wall on the forward end of the room. Thaddeus stepped over and tapped it, it was hollow. A little muscled use and he slid the wall panel away to find an extensive cupboard that he didn't care to see what was in it. Grabbing the two he shoved them into the small space and handed one a transmitter. "When that goes off," he told them. "It means get on the pad, you'll have ten, maybe fifteen seconds." he turned and one called him back. What if the Orions returned? "They you're screwed m'lad." he replaced the panel and stepped away. And went back into the lower decks.

Another sweaty and long run and he was in the engine room again. To his surprise he found both Jan and Captain Brott sided by side, without their jackets, working to keep the warp core contained. Thaddeus came up and asked for a report.

"She's gonna blow soon, and we won't have time to take your little side road, Chief." Jan said. She looked up as if she had forgotten something. "Oh, I've got _Chillingsworth_ , she says she can beam us up as soon as we are on the pad."

Thaddeus nodded. "Okay, let's run then." Brott opened her mouth to protest, but Thaddeus toyed with his pistol. "I'll stun you if I have to." Brott nodded and grabbed her jacket.

Thaddeus chimed the transponder he had given the two and gathered the Orion and Bolian captain to rush down the hall. He pressed the button and the door slid open. They took off running. First they passed two startled Orions who simply stared as this strange trio ran passed, then they changed decks and continued to sprint until they had to dive aside when two burly enforcers met them in the hall. Devvers cried as an energy bolt grazed her arm, Thaddeus shot both just as another came from a nearby door and hacked at his leg with an ax of sorts. He cried and saw the Orion disintegrate when hit by Brott's pistol. Thaddeus stumbled to his feet and checked Devvers, her arm was cut and the flesh sizzled. Brott came up and caught Thaddeus as he fell back.

Several foul words were exchanged as they limped on down the hall until they came to the transporter. The pad was clear and the panel which Thaddeus had hid the crewmen behind was gone, they stood on the pad and linked arms. Thaddeus was the only man who had a surviving commbadge. He slapped it and called for a beam up. The pain in his leg blotted out his fear of transporters and he was suddenly looking at the gray and white interior of the transporter room.

"Well," he said stupidly. "I think I've earned the right to simply collapse." he let his legs drop out from under him and he fell to ground, he thought that the hard transporter surface was as soft as the bed in his quarters.


	36. Episode 2: Part 9 (Bonus Scene)

**Little bit of a bonus on the end of this one for you to enjoy. (It builds the political role Reddy will play at a later time in the series.)**

 **Part 9**

"We have the survivors of the _Azura_!"

Sam leaped out of her seat and pumped a fist at the air. It turns out that things weren't so gloomy, and her tears hadn't need to have fallen. She turned to Sooroo. "Report on _Azura_."

Sooroo checked her readings. "Her warp core is critical, I suggest we maintain a four kilometer distance between us and the blast."

"Very well navigation, take us away, range to six kilometers." they had been hovering right next to the _Azura_ , defending her from a single poaching corvette, they pulled away now and the screen centered on the freighter.

A second later the screen was blinded by the explosion, one so bright Suzanne had to change the view and leave the bridge crew blinking to remove dots from their vision. Sam gazed out at where the ship had once again, briefly thinking of how that could have happened to her ship, and how her hundred and fifty crew could be snuffed out easier than the metal hull of the once fine freighter. Sam banished all melancholy thoughts and returned to her seat. "Miss Shay, set course for Earth Spacedock, maximum warp!"

"Aye sir!" Shay worked at her console and the helm brought the ship around on an exit route. "Course laid in sir."

Sam paused for a moment. "Engage."

They sped off, leaving in their wake another battlefield.

Turns out, Thaddeus didn't get his nap on the transporter pad, as soon as he hit the ground a medic was there trying to stick a hypo needle in his ass, he had kicked the man away and had come to grips with the fact that he wasn't going to get a nap anytime soon. For the next hour he had been in sickbay while they repaired the tissue of his right leg, then immediately after he was given a dose of something that made him high. It was an hour after that when he stood before Captain O'Connell beside Lieutenant Devvers. He felt like a man who was a prisoner, his pant's leg was tied above his shin where he had been cut, Devvers was down to a tank top with a bandage around her upper arm where a disruptor blast had cut the skin. The Captain didn't seem to care, she was joyous.

"You wouldn't believe my reaction when I heard you both were aboard safe." Jan and Thaddeus looked at each other, wondering what their response should be, the Captain laughed at the motion. "It was quite uncaptain-like of me, standing and expressing joy at your survival." Thaddeus slowly began to realize that this was how the captain showed she was absolutely brimming with happiness. She straightened and tried to set a more serious face. "I'd like to thank you for the job you did today, you saved Captain Brott, and you have her thanks as well, and saved us too."

Devvers seemed concerned about the last. "Pardon me sir, but how did we save you?"

O'Connell shifted in her chair again, this time she leaned to one side. "Aren't Vulcans scary? They always judge what you do and predict the future. There happens to be a small room hidden below the bridge that can hardly be accessible without going on an epic quest, it's based of the CIC of older naval ships, and it's primary use these days is dissection of combat information. The director of the section, which is almost entirely Vulcan, determined that if we hadn't employed you to destroy your corvette, we very well may have never made it out of that radiation cloud in as good of a piece as we did."

Thaddeus nodded slowly. "So we saved your ass, Captain?"

O'Connell looked at the Welshman. "Indeed Chief, and for that I am very grateful. And for which I am informing you that we will stop off at drydock for a day or two, then take our time getting back to the Una System. I want you two to get better in that time, you deserve it."

Devvers spoke. "Captain, I'd like to make some recommendations for several—"

"In good time Lieutenant." Captain O'Connell cut her off. "For now I want you to rest, you have four days at minimum, and I want you ready for combat by then." Devvers dropped her head and nodded. The Captain laughed. "Don't worry, get some rest and enjoy some time on our holodeck, it will do worlds for you. Dismissed." they both came to attention, Thaddeus leaning heavily on a cane that Medical Officer Polk had given him. The turned and left the room.

Sam sat back down and watched the door closed behind them. She shifted in her chair again, Suzanne knew some tricks in the bed, and the "stress relief" Sam had gone through about an hour ago hadn't been washed off yet, Sam still had to prepare a report and send it to Admiral Quinn. Once she was done she'd get a shower and maybe find Suzanne waiting for her this time.

(Bonus)

Patrick Reddy sat back and tried to conceal a massive yawn with his hand. The man speaking was a Vulcan Admiral, and he droned. Reddy was beginning to regret accepting Jorel Quinn's invitation to sit in on the Una Meeting in which the Starfleet Council would debate what action would be taken for the Vega System. For the first hour, Reddy had been interested in the full combat report and what actions had been taken in the last two days, the second hour he had entertained himself by drawing very poor representations of _Miranda_ -class cruisers, now at the bottom of the third hour, Reddy was trying his best not to simply stand and leave.

So far the speakers had been Vulcans and their human coworkers. All had had one simple message: no action be taken for the Vega system. Particularly, Reddy found that revolting. To think that fighting in the Vega system would cost too much money, at too little gain, was like thinking that paying free-enterprising cargo haulers should not be paid for delivering food to Sol because all farmland had been turned into cities. The speakers had given no one any chance, not even Vice Admiral Stocker, who was the highest council member present.

"I'd like to add, that the people of the Vega System should fight for themselves, and retake the system themselves. We gain little from the system anymore, and it is illogical to fight for a system that we get no gain from."

That hit Reddy hard, he jumped to hit feet and hit the small button that called attention to his seat. To interrupt a the man speaking was like interrupting a god, and a hundred eyes fell on Reddy, a Scotsman standing in his less glorious uniform, who almost lost his composure under the eyes. "Councilman, may I so dare to speak?" The Vulcan's eyes flashed with aggravation, he began to speak that he had not finished but Reddy cut him off. "I'd like to think that you will never finish, and I'm sure many in this room will agree that a Lieutenant Commander for less than a week would be more entertaining than you."

The room gasped. At the far end was a Klingon councilman representing the Utopia Shipyard around Mars. He slapped his attention button. "I say we allow the man to speak, I start a motion."

The Chairman looked about. "Councilman Kannarv wishes to start a motion, all in favor." the room lit up with sound. The Chairman looked at his vote counter. "Fifty-one votes for, majority passes for Lieutenant Commander Patrick Reddy to speak. Please step down councilman." the Vulcan gave an angry look at the Chairman and reluctantly stepped down from the podium.

Heart in his throat, Reddy stepped from his seat and walked to the podium, the whole way he felt as though every eye looked upon him as a fried chicken. He swallowed hard as he stepped up to the podium.

"You have the floor Mister Reddy." the Chairman stated.

Reddy nodded and composed himself, a funny thought came across his mind. "Well I thought that man would never stop talking." he didn't stop to let the crowd laugh. "But I must say, for a Vulcan, he speaks more illogically than a man who was shot for trespassing would if he tried to defend himself, he obviously doesn't know some hard facts. Which is strange since he is a Vulcan." he decided to make a point. "My point, Councilmen, is that there is only two solutions to the problem with the Vega System, only one is a logical one. Vega, a colony of several million people, Vega IX alone had 2.8 million, had as little as four hundred survivors know to Starfleet. Any other number is irrelevant and makes no contribution to the fact that the Borg, a force that we now believe we are invulnerable too, have a foothold in Federation space. And our councilmen, Starfleet Admirals nonetheless, believe that to eliminate this threat would be illogical and a waste of resources. Well I tell them this, no man ever showed that he was proud or dedicated to his people by not defending his borders. We may have destroyed the transwarp conduit in the Pollux System, but that will make little difference when thirteen million people have been adapted to fight for the Borg Collective. And as soon as they are adapted, there will be crews for not the fifty cubes in the system, but enough to mine raw resources and construct more. We refuse to see that the Borg, a force once so feared by us and all, is in our borders, and when ready, will make war against us. In that time, what will we respond with when the Una System is taken, or the Risa System? Will we once again say that they contribute none to the Federation and let the millions of inhabitants be assimilated?

"Gentlemen there is one, and only one, logical and sane motion to be made! That is to dedicate all available forces, and a brilliant commander, to retake the Vega System, and completely destroy the Borg occupation. I start a motion to fight!"

A female on the Chair stopped him. "Do pardon me Mister Reddy, but a motion may only be started by a member of the council."

Reddy stung. A call sounded from Councilman Kannarv's seat. "I start a motion to elect a commander to lead the forces in the Una System to destroy the Borg Occupation in the Vega System."

The Chairman leaned to his microphone. "Before we begin to vote, Councilman Kannarve, have you a candidate for your vote?"

"Nay! But we should vote to take action, before we waste the days wondering what candidate we should vote for." the Klingon shouted every word.

The Chairman nodded. "Very well, Councilman Kannarv has started a motion to elect a commander of the forces in the Una System to remove the Borg Occupation in the Vega System. All in favor?"

A number of lights came on, they were less than the majority. "All against?" something around the same number came on. "Undecided?" a similar number came on. The Chairman looked at his vote count and bit his lip. "The vote is thirty-nine undecided, thirty against, thirty-one for. The motion passes, I have made a decision and shared it with the Chair. I insist that we pursue to have this turned over to a qualified Starfleet Admiral, and left out of the Council. We will decide when we reconvene. Dismissed." the room stood and began to leave. Reddy stepped down from the podium and was intercepted by the Vulcan.

"I want you to know Commander, you have just made enemies on the council, which is something you do not want."

Reddy gave a sly smile and, as he usually covered it up, his thickest Scottish accent. "Ye'r can go an'nee fook yerself, I'mea bloody Scotsman." he knew the comment was offhand and probably offensive to his own culture, but he found it to be pleasing. As he exited the room he met up with Admiral Quinn, who had stern words to say, and Kannarv, who insisted on taking him to Qo'nos sometime to get a mug of bloodwine.


	37. Episode 2: Part 11 (ExplicitConclusion)

**Part 11 (Explicit)**

Thaddeus tried his best to swallow his fears and with some dignity more becoming of a twenty year old Chief Sergeant, ring the bell to Lieutenant Junior Grade Devver's quarters. He summoned all his strength to respond and enter the room, more spacious than his since she was both and officer and a department head. He almost had to stop, Devvers was sitting in a pair of shorts with her tank top, he tell it was without a bra, and combing her flowing hair. He swallowed and stepped into the door.

Jan looked up, letting her hair slide over her shoulder and away from her front, exposing more of her already mesmerizing green skin. "Thaddeus, never expected you to wear anything other than the uniform."

Thaddeus forced an awkward smile and looked at his outfit. "It's the only pair of civilian clothes I brought with me, I never thought I'd need to use it."

"What can I do for you Chief?" Jan said, placing her comb to the small table she sat at, and leaning her elbow on it.

Thaddeus drew his left hand from behind his back and presented a bottle of synthale. "I'm technically not allowed to drink this, and I must say I never had the taste for it, but I thought you deserved some payment for what you did today."

Jan laughed. "Of all things I imagined you doing, I never thought you'd try and offer me a drink."

Thaddeus felt his face turn redder. "It's not exactly an offer, I just wanted you to know that I respect you as an officer, and. . .and. . .I'm glad you stayed with me while aboard the _Azura_."

Jan, apparently amused at Thaddeus' awkwardness, laughed and stood. "As you should really say, you simply wanted to give me a gift. And my performance is completely irrelevant to this conversation."

Thaddeus was having trouble concentrating, the exposed green skin on Jan's legs and shoulders was distracting him, and when he looked into her eyes he was mesmerized by the deep green pools. He fumbled over words and couldn't form anything right. Thaddeus could feel his heart in his chest, the blood roaring through his ears, he couldn't think of what to say. Thaddeus wiped his eyes, when he looked up he was staring directly into the eyes of this tall beautiful Orion woman.

"The stupidest thing I ever read in a book about Starfleet, or any military, was that two officers didn't disclose their feelings."

Thaddeus knew it, and somehow the seed grew and he grew with it. His arms wrapped around her and their bodies came together as their lips met in a kiss. The kiss grew deep and he leaned her over as he pressed as hard as he could and fought to dominate it. Jan pushed back and worked to get the buttoned shirt he wore from him, then soon had his shirt over his head. Swinging them around, Thaddeus walked them to Jan's bed and tipped Jan back, lifting her legs up and holding her off the ground. They landed in on the covers and made out there. Jan kissing his face as he tracked kissed down her chin and neck to her shoulder.

He felt her shift and push her shorts away, a stray and felt that she hadn't any panties, he felt the smooth skin above her center and felt the warmth and moisture from it. He felt her hands work at the zipper on his jeans and he helped her take them away. Before they even hit the ground, Jan flipped them and sat up above him. His semi-erect manhood rubbed against her buttocks and he felt the smooth skin that only Orion women had as he stared at her green body above him, thinking what she concealed beneath her gray tank top.

As if she read his mind she reached and pulled it over her head, exposing a pair of perfect green breasts. Leaning down she let him grab the and suck them, the whole while using her hand to stroke his now throbbing erection. She broke his contact with her tits and kissed him.

Seductively she look directly into his eyes. "Think it's ready?" her pause only made him harder. Without saying a word and with grins on both their faces, Jan set up straight and lifted her body to give clearance. She fitted it and let it go in, the she proceeded to grind down on it as hard as she could. They both moaned, increasing each others pleasure by watching the relaxed and pleasing look on the others face. Before long Jan began to bounce, he put his hands on her hips and helped her by thrusting up into her. He surprised her and flipped her unto her back and began to fuck her as hard and fast as he could.

Jan couldn't handle it, her hands came up to run through her hair as she closed her eyes as he worked in and out of her.

For an hour they tried and finally all continuity was lost as they reached their peaks and slowed down. When Thaddeus returned to his senses they were beneath the covers, and all her could think of was that they had finally gotten enough work out of the way to have their first escapade, the same thing they had been trying to experiment with when Captain O'Connell interrupted them this morning.

(Conclusion) There you have it! Episode 2, which really had very little to do with it's title, is done! And now you can go back to playing Star Trek Online until I start writing on Episode Three, which will involve Lieutenant Commander Reddy and the P'Jem incident. Also, unlike last episode, I manged to squeeze something much more sexual into this since that was the basis for why I started the story, and I'm sure there are a few pervs out there who are wanting it. I'll stop talking about that now. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this story and subsequent. Best Guy, out.


	38. Episode 3: Disturbed Peace

'Ello ladies and gents!I'm back! I'm probably fooling myself by thinking you were hungering for the following stories so I'll shut up and let you read!

The Great Arc: Episode 3

Disturbed Peace

Lieutenant Commander Patrick Jacques Reddy sat silently as he read about the adventures of Commander Montgomery Scott and his years of service. Naturally as a Scotsman, Reddy was attracted to the man's life, not just because he served under the famous Captain James T. Kirk, but because he was fascinating man, and his insights into the art of shipboard security was what Reddy had taken too when he was assigned to the _Chillingsworth_ as Acting-Security Officer. Now he had found a multitude of novels on the man at the Starfleet Recruiting Post in Glasgow, books that the head of the post had hidden away until a man like Reddy found them and enjoyed them.

He had stumbled upon the novels two days ago when his entire crew had been given a weeks leave and he hadn't made contact with Lt. Cmdr. Karen Andrews, he had wanted somewhat to meet the woman again and had almost gone down to Starfleet Academy and sought her out. Instead he settled on calling the information center there at the Academy and learned that the first person he had ever shared a bed with had been assigned to the _Defiant_ , and was bound for Deep Space 9 before being diverted to fight the Borg in the Vega System. From the fact that she had not informed him, what Reddy had thought would be a lasting relation between proctor and student, had now become simply a one-night-stand.

Trying his best to get over the first woman he slept with, Reddy had instead gone back to the recruiting post in Scotland and gone from there to meet several old friends from school. He had been sure to wear his Odyssey uniform with his Lieutenant Commander ranks, and had duly impressed his friends with them. Where they had become doctors and lawyers, he had become a captain of a ship that had already been through some interesting events in it's short career. When they heard that he was the first Federation ship in the Vega System they had asked him to tell them everything, which he had, and even when he was done he was asked to tell the story again. After a day of such acts he had returned to Earth Spacedock, reluctant to return to his ship instead of enjoy his free time. When _Walker_ was done with her reparation she would surely be away from port for more than thirty days.

In his free time he had wandered the halls of Earth Spacedock and enjoyed some of the recreational areas including the arboretum and the holodecks. But so far the best and worst time he'd had was in the Starfleet Council Chamber, where yesterday he had stood before the chamber and spoke like a diplomat. He had surprised himself then, he had managed to carry a topic and keep the attention of the council, as well as convinced them to a motion. However, Admiral Quinn, who had invited him in the first place, had asked that he sit outside for this morning's session and await the verdict, if they came to one, as to who would command the Una Fleet.

Reddy had been reading outside the chamber for an hour when the door opened and the council spilled out. At the front was Admiral Quinn with the expansive Councilman Kannarv, a Klingon who represented the Utopia Shipyard around Mars, right on his heels. Reddy stood and fell in on Quinn's left as he stormed down the hallway.

"I hope you're happy Pat." The Trill said curtly.

"Extremely sir, why should I be?"

The rear admiral didn't much care for Reddy's sarcasm. "You've made yourself a political target, I'd like to see if you ever make Admiral."

Reddy didn't much care for becoming an Admiral if it involved what he had seen yesterday. "Has there been a verdict yet?" Reddy looked past Quinn at the expansive Klingon.

Before the Klingon could say anything, there came a high pitched English voice, calling them about to see. "Quinn my boy!" the group turned and say a tall and lanky man in Captain's Uniform approaching. He stepped up with a great smile on his face. "Quinn dear, lad, you said you'd introduce me to the man who started all this."

Quinn sighed. "Can I go take a pill first?"

The man leaned back and let out a happy laugh. He looked at Reddy. "You must be Commander Reddy!" he offered a hand, Reddy took it and realized that the man shook very firmly.

"Lieutenant Commander, can't have the solid bars yet." Reddy retrieved a smarting hand but kept a smile on his face.

"Well worry not, someday you'll have them, and an extra if you are lucky." The man was genuinly ecstatic, Reddy began to think that he had been selected.

Quinn stopped rubbing his head and introduced them. "Lieutenant Commander Reddy, this is Commodore George Horrocks, he has been nominated to lead the Una Fleet."

Horrocks made a motion of taking of a hat and bowing. "At your service Mister Reddy. I have you to thank for this! My whole life I've spent wanting to command something worthwhile, now I'll get to!" he laughed and nudged Quinn with his elbow. "They may promote me over you Jorel my boy."

Quinn cast an agitated glare at the jubilant man. "I've got things to do, and so do you." he turned to go, both Kannarv and Reddy bid goodbye to Horrocks and followed the quick walking Admiral.

"He seems happy to be in command." Reddy said to no one at all.

Quinn huffed. "Captain George Brian Horrocks, I've known him since I taught at the Academy. He can memorize an entire document in a single glance and can organize a hundred men to do the hardest tasks, even if he was the most junior." he glanced over his shoulder to see that Horrocks wasn't following them. "The staff use to call him 'Quartermaster' because he almost took over our jobs. He's been a Captain since he left the Academy, commanding the same ship. He's been assigned to all kinds of things, from cleanup details to quelling civil unrest, each time he has got it done."

"A true warrior knows his troops and their strengths, he doesn't make politically correct decisions." Kannarv stated.

"Indeed." Reddy still was wondering why he had command. "But there are dozens of Admirals without combat commands, with combat experience. Why was Horrocks chosen?"

Quinn stopped and faced Reddy. "You remember what I said about politicking? Well that is it at work right now. Yes there are a dozen Admirals who could do the job, but Councilman T'Kitos has most of the council wrapped around his hand, and the last thing he wants is for a motion that you started to become successful in the end. By putting a man with little experience in command, he has created an unstable blackhole that might just drag you and Starfleet into it if Horrocks fails." he started walking again. "In short, T'Kitos managed to to do what he has been trying to do for the past five years."

"What's that?" Reddy asked.

"End Starfleet by denying all aggressors against it, he wants the spending gone and expects the Borg to act like it's nothing." Quinn's face was red. He looked at Reddy. "Those are the men who want to see Starfleet gone, and they've got about forty-eight percent of both the Starfleet and Federation council, most are Vulcan or human."

Reddy was still curious. "But how would they benefit from that?"

"They think their wages will go up and they can focus on increasing government profit. I'm not entirely sure, I feel that they just want the military gone." he brought his hands up and made quotation marks. "'It's the 25th Century, we shouldn't have to wage war.'"

Kannarv laughed.

Reddy grimaced. "Any chance that they'll succeed?" he asked, casting an eye at Kannarv who was chuckling to himself.

"Have you not been listening Pat? He's got half of the council, has already managed to decrease strength by half of what it was at the turn of the century, and he just ordered a white-collar to lead the assault on the Vega System. So I think that there is quite the chance he'll succeed." Quinn fumed. They reached his office and he stopped. He faced Reddy. "How's the work on _Walker_ coming along?"

Reddy bit his lip. "Good," he lied, "I'm sure she'll be ready by the end of the week."

"Indeed, she looked in pretty rough shape." Quinn's brows went up.

"Aye, she was beat around pretty hard, but my engineer knows what she's doing and has done a remarkable job fixing her up, not to mention how well she works with my Operations Officer." Not all of the statement was true.

"Well then, go back aboard and hurry them up, I feel that I'm going to have a job for you by tomorrow." Quinn had obviously dismissed Reddy.

"Yes sir." Reddy turned, bid Kannarv goodbye, and walked away.

His ship's refit was going the complete opposite of good, or even bad. It was horrible. Two larger and more important ships had come in just after _Walker_ and had hogged up Spacedock's resources. Reddy's Engineering Officer, a Bolian named Zarva, and his Head of Operations, Sarah Triss, had spent two days trying to find resources to fix the horrible damage that they had taken in the Vega and Pollux Systems almost a week ago. A ship as small as _Walker_ was considered to be cannon fodder, and the ancient _Miranda-_ class was usually placed at the very bottom of the priority list, right below the _Constitution-refit_ -class cargo ships and the _Centaur_ light cruisers. Next came the allocation of the four hundred civilians that Reddy had loaded aboard from Vega IX, he had managed to lose around two hundred, yet two hundred civilians still crowded the halls, making Zarva's job even harder. At the bottom of the list of problems, certainly not the least, was the missing crew. On the first week of Februarym during the fight over the small colony of Vega IX, now controlled by the Borg, a plasma fire had broken out on the Port side. Thirty damage control personnel had been critically wounded trying to put the fires out, another fifteen were dead. Already a requisition for basic crewmen from the Berlin and Beijing Arms had been sent, but Zarva was extremely short handed, and security forces made poor DC crews.

It was the main reason Reddy had procrastinated in Earth Spacedock for the last few days, the ship rang with hammers, torches, and complaining refugees. Zarva complained as well, which angered him because he hated having to listen to his friends complain, Elisa tried to avoid him and T'Kira was going through some kind of period where she was forced into solitude. The only person who seemed to go on without a complaint was Arripak the Bridge Engineer, who Reddy had a small grudge against because of a little telepathic incident during the fighting over Vega IX.

But now he had no choice, Quinn had given him a direct order, he also mentioned a mission. Reddy felt that a mission, even if it was a border patrol or cargo mission, would bring his crew back together and improve the moods aboard. Reddy's PADD buzzed and he found the a set of orders to return to his ship, he smiled.

As soon as _Walker_ had laid up in port and news of the Borg had reached the public, Reddy had been intercepted by a group of news reporters. The next day his name had been in every newsreel and paper, making him a hero in the public, and an idiot to fellow Starfleet. One paper had said "Truly the finest Starfleet has to offer, a man even more important to the Federation than Jim Kirk or Jean Luc Picard, a shining example for all Starfleet officers, senior and non." Not many men had taken that well, especially the Lieutenants who had seen more years of service than Reddy. The thought among the ranks was that who was this 'days-old' man who deserves a promotion to Lieutenant Commander and a ship of his own.

Now, glad to have a real reason to return his ship, Reddy could leave the jealous gaze of Starfleet officers and return to his friends that knew that he valued his ship and crew more than a year in the news.


	39. Episode 3: Part 2

**You aren't interested in what I have to say about this chapter, except I kind of ran our of ideas for how to end it, so I decided to make Reddy take another nap. (Spoiler Alert)**

 **Part 2**

As soon as one of _Walker_ four shuttles landed and Reddy stepped off, he was greeted by a group of people he had little want to speak with. The first to step forward, breaching military protocol, was Willa Post, asking if he had found a place to hand the colonists over. Reddy pushed her aside and exchanged salutes with his First Officer, something that was hasty as they were forced to hurry aside by an incoming Runabout with a load of materials for reparation. As he entered the adjoining hall he was swarmed by the rest of his ship's seniors, all bidding him hello and asking questions. Reddy shouted and caught their attention, ordering that a briefing would be held in three hours as soon as he had rested. He strode off down the hall, hardly aware of Elisa Flores following him quietly.

Reddy tossed his jacket aside as he plopped on his bed, he realized that Flores had followed him all the way into his room. He looked at the red-head. "How bad will that briefing sound in two hours?"

Elisa sat in the chair Reddy had thrown his jacket, moving the uniform to the back of it. "Pretty bad, plus I can hardly keep that Post woman out of any room on this ship." she tenderly touched a bruise Reddy had left from a little fight they'd had.

Reddy stared at the ceiling. "For Godsake, contact Starfleet and _tell_ them you're sending the refugees, and make sure by the time the message reaches them the shuttles can't be turned back."

Elisa nodded at the scheme and sent the orders to the SAD (Special Air Division) and looked at Reddy. "Anything else."

Reddy rolled on his side and propped himself on his arm. "How bad are repairs?"

"The shuttle we had to avoid coming in was only the third shipment of supplies, and using your name hasn't worked worth a damn. Hell, we were outright refused any priority, which means we have to procure our own supplies and personnel to fix this hunk of metal." Reddy's quarters had a comfortably high ceiling, Elisa passed her gaze over it. "We have most of the holes patched, but not reinforced, the shortage of crew isn't helping."

"Any good news?" Reddy sighed.

Elisa perked a little. "Most of the Vulcans are being curiously congenial and making themselves sparse, which makes all my illogical priorities much more efficient. And I've managed to recruit a handful of the refugees into our ranks, I've already pulled enlistment forms, all they need is your approval."

The last thing Reddy wanted to see was a sheaf of papers he had to fill out. "You've seen my signature, I'm not in the mood for paperwork."

Elisa laughed and tossed her PADD unto the bed. "Just sign there Captain."

Reddy traced his finger across the screen. Elisa halfstood and reached for the PADD when he finished, she was wearing her utility uniform which was allowed to be unbuttoned down a little ways. He got a pleasant view that he felt guilty of as soon as Elisa stepped back.

"How long until we are spaceworthy again?" he inquired.

Elisa brushed her short hair back. "Another week at this rate."

Reddy violently facepalmed, laying back on the sheets. "And I told the Admiral we'd have it going by Sunday."

Elisa sputtered. "Sunday?"

"Yes, he said he may have a mission for us by tomorrow and I frankly want to be away from here by Sunday."

"You can't just expect the hull to help us out! Have you ever tried to apply a patch over a section of hull incinerated by a plasma fire? You think it's easy!" Elisa burst, coming to her feet in anger.

Reddy ordered her to calm down. Elisa composed herself and sat down, she massaged her temples. "I'm sorry Pat, there is stress, and then there is this much stress, which might send me to suicide if I'm not careful." she looked at Pat. "You got a vacation, and I got to work while my mother's in the hospital."

Pat sat up and swung his legs to the floor. "What happened?"

"She's a bad driver."

Pat felt for the woman. He had left her here as he went to play around in Scotland, all the while ignorant of her mother. He patted the bed next to him and she came over and sat beside him. Biting her lip she leaned against his shoulder. "What the hell am I doing Pat." she sat up and was about to stand when Pat put an arm around her shoulders.

He let his arm dropped, he kicked off his shoes and settled himself on top of the sheets, settling in for a nap. Elisa looked at him quizzingly until he closed his eyes and placed an arm under his pillow. He felt the bed shake and suddenly a warm body was in front of him. Pat wrapped his arms around Elisa's smaller frame and nestled his head against her shoulders, he felt her breath settle as he spooned against her. It wasn't long before he was asleep.

(Two hours later, _Walker_ Briefing Room 1)

Reddy braced his left hand against his cheek, watching as Zarva the senior officers of the USS _Walker_ took their seats and began adjusted the paper of their individual reports. Elisa started by saying that they manged to get the remaining Vega refugees off the ship and a total of fifteen had stayed behind to join as crewmen of the _Walker._ Next was Lieutenant Junior Grade Zarva, commonly called Chief, a tall and well aged Bolian who was motherly, yet not to the point of not responding to authority.

"It's a mess Captain, we've gotten the hull breaches fixed, but we need somewhere in the range of three to five more tons of metal to restore out hull to factory strength. We've fixed all the quarters and converted many of them to two person rooms with cots rather than beds, we have asked for volunteers to sleep in them before we begin assigning spaces. The Warp Core is finally up to full capacity, our best cruise is now in the range of Warp Factor 2.8, and our Impulse is spiffing now. I managed to reroute a couple things and supercharge the ports, we are almost forty percent faster. The problem is structural integrity, we need two tons of metal to fix the supports holding the Impulse assembly in place."

"Let me stop you there, what happens if we don't get it fixed?" Reddy felt that he knew the answer to that question.

"If we put too much strain on the supports as they are now, we could buckle the supports and the Impulse Engines would break away and go slamming through Main Engineering before they bled their energy out." Sarah Triss, Head of Operations—yet better at speaking than Zarva—cut in.

Reddy nodded and signaled for Zarva to continue. "Well, that's about it, I've managed to boost our life support systems so we won't have to rush if we ever need to carry that many people again." Zarva stopped, thinking of what to say. "We've got a lot of work to do, Captain, and it the lack of supplies makes it worse." she sat.

Sarah Triss was next to give her Operations report, the brown haired Englishwoman stood and straightened her utility uniform. "We've got a crew of one hundred sixty-three left, that's including the 'conscripts' that decided to stay today. I put a request in for a number of officers and enlisted through Francisco, Lieutenant Ferra was kind in saying that we couldn't have one because we're just a Light Cruiser—" Elisa cleared her throat loudly and stopped any further words against Starfleet Academy. "Either way, we're short handed in the Engineering Department, severely, we've got fifteen able Engineers and only ten damage control personnel not tied down by sickbay. In all, we need damage control experts and a number of engineers to assist teams in repairing our hull. Other than that, nothing of importance." Sarah sat down and went back to examining her her hand.

Reddy looked at Rebecca, sitting in for T'Kira. "Security Section report."

"Nothing out of the ordinary, we got the refugees off the ship and managed to finish stocking both Operations and Security supplies yesterday." Rebecca reported, not bothering to stand from where she sat.

Reddy, reluctantly, looked a the Benzite Ensign at the end of the table, playing with a small piece of metal that she must have dug from a wounded crewman. "Medical report."

"I talked with the counselors, deary, everyone is just as pissed off as you." the Benzite actually was a combat medic and really wasn't qualified for her job, and such she responded badly to authority. "My sickbay is full of the people who I could hold, the reason we're down to one hundred sixty-three crew _on board_ is because about twenty crew could not fit in my sickbay, or they were too critically wounded. Miss Triss may have forgotten to tell you, but we actually only have a fighting strength of a hundred twenty."

"How bad are most of the injuries?" Reddy asked, he was already growing tired of the condescending Benzite.

"Many are minor incapacitation, burnt legs or failed nerves, I can have a large number back on their feet by the middle of next week, but only a few are serious and need to stay in bed longer."

Reddy nodded and Zoko O'Konnell went back to playing with her piece of paper. "This may sound crazy," he announced, "but I believe that Admiral Quinn may have a mission for us by tomorrow." there were some gasps and moans around the table. "Our main objective right now is getting this ship to combat standards and get the crew on their feet. O'Konnell, get my men on their feet. Zarva, make do with what you have and get the hull fixed. Triss, I'm going to try and jump the chain of command and get Quinn to get us a some more personnel, I want you to compile a list of positions for me to send to him." Reddy sat back and stretched his arms. "I believe that concludes business, unless anyone has anything to say. . .No? Very well then, dismissed."

They crews stood and Reddy sighed when the room was clear. They were bad off and Reddy was already tired despite his nap, which had been extremely energizing if not for leaving him with a guilty feeling of cuddling with Elisa the whole time.

Reddy didn't leave the room, he had a small personal communicator that he could use to play music. He put on a set of earpieces and cranked up the music of his homeland, propping his feet on the table he leaned back and drifted off in thought as he listened to the drone of bagpipes. He decided that he would deal with the troops problem tomorrow and try to enjoy the last of the day before he began signing paperwork tonight. Reddy eventually drifted off to sleep. He'd later realize that life would be coming fast, having a nap was like being a king.


	40. Episode 3: Part 3

**Part 3**

" _Captain's Log: Stardate 86129 (February 17, 2409, 0700). Finally, after enormous amount of work, the Walker is underway again. While we have been sent on a mission to transport a Vulcan ambassador to the small monastery planet of P'Jem, the mission was placed on hold until now due to unavailable ships. This gives me a chance to not strain the new repairs of my ship, as we are now entering the Vulcan System, yesterday I put my crew, strengthened by fifty brand new Crewmen from the Beijing Arm, through some rigorous tests. Tests which all hands worked together to pass, and give Walker's average preparedness rating a ninety-five percent, this mission will most likely include much downtime, which will give my crew plenty of time to train the newcomers and rest from the abominable amount of strain I placed upon them since last Sunday."_

Reddy closed his pen and handed the clipboard off to the short Yeoman.

"Entering the Vulcan System now, sir. Vulcan in five minutes." Ensign Jennifer Shay spoke from her seat at the helm.

Reddy stood and stretched, he turned to T'Vrell. "Ensign, contact Vulcan Control and request permission to enter orbit, then contact Ambassador Sokketh on the ground."

"Aye sir." The Vulcan nodded and went to work at her comms station. Reddy went back to his seat, a minutes later T'Vrell spoke up. "Captain, Ambassador Sokketh's aide, wishes to speak to you."

Reddy pressed the personal contact button on his command chair and picture of a young Vulcan face came up the small holographic screen.

"This is Lieutenant Commander Patrick Reddy, Commanding the USS _Walker_ , how may I help you." He said in his smooth Scottish accent.

The screen shook a little as the background shifted, the woman was obviously moving about. "Greetings Commander Reddy, I am T'Pela, personal aide to Ambassador Sokketh."

The young face was quite attractive, and the voice was less mechanical than most Vulcan women.

"Indeed, we were sent here to escort him to P'Jem. I hope nothing has gone wrong." Reddy said.

"No of course not," T'Pela tilted her head slightly and continued more slowly, "it's just that the Ambassador has built up a small illogical fear of transporters as of late, he told me to request that you come down in a shuttle to retrieve him."

Reddy sympathized with the man, he somewhat disliked the devices himself. "Very well, I'll be down shortly with a shuttle."

"Thank you Commander. We will be waiting." the screen faded and the hologram shut down.

Reddy looked at his First Officer in the chair to the right. "Ambassadors can't make anything simple, I come all this way too simply escort him and he won't just beam aboard, next thing you know he'll turn down my dinner invitation."

Elisa chuckled and settled in her seat. "I'll hold down the fort and have a shuttle ready for you."

Reddy stood. "Very well."

The Potter stood as well. "With permission Cap, I'd like to fly you down to the planet."

Reddy looked at Flores, who nodded back. "She was qualified while you were on leave, it will be good practice for her."

Reddy looked back at the petite red-head and waved a hand for her to come along.

(Shuttle 1: Callsign _Bandit_.)

Ensign Ash Potter had once had a near-death experience, when the _Walker_ had been boarded and it's bridge captured a Klingon had placed a Dahar, a strange looking Klingon knife, against her neck. Something had set the young woman off at that point, the young woman with the makings of a fighter pilot had changed from her almost casual self at the academy, to the insane pilot who was trying to kill herself. It wasn't a joke, Reddy remembered reading a book about a group of pilots, Potter was beginning to fit the description on one who was almost suicidal.

Reddy had asked her to be tried by O'Konnell, yet nothing had turned up concerning suicide or possibly being crazy. Potter simply looked at the world from a very sarcastic view now, in almost every action and word was something sarcastic for her. The idea that his Helmsman acted like a 'Flash' Gordon was very disconcerting when she was piloting something as small and agile as a Type-8 Shuttlecraft.

Despite his misgivings, Potter was an excellent pilot. That was, until they hit Vulcan's arid atmosphere. For several seconds Reddy was more concerned with whether he was going to die than if his pilot was going to kill him, the small craft bounced through the atmosphere and Reddy was crushed into his seat as Potter pulled them from a dive at Mach 10. As the pressure let up and Potter settled the ship on a flat course towards where they were to meet Ambassador Sokketh, Reddy took a moment to breath. Looking at the red-head he said something not quite proper of him and went to making contact with Vulcan Control.

Moving to the edge of his co-pilot seat, Reddy reached for the comms panel and tuned into Vulcan Control. "Vulcan Control ship is USS _Walker_ Shuttlecraft 1, callsign _Bandit_ , requesting permission to land at specific coordinates."

There was silence for a few seconds then a mechanical Vulcan voice came back. "Shuttlecraft _Bandit_ , this is Vulcan Control, please send requested coordinates."

Reddy presented the coordinates that he had been given and punched them into the text panel, a few seconds later the message was sent.

"Shuttlecraft _Bandit_ you are cleared to land at specific coordinates." the voice paused for several seconds with the line open. "Please. . .enjoy, your stay." the line clicked shut.

Reddy sat back and chuckled, looking at Potter. "Never thought I'd hear a Vulcan traffic controller say that." Potter smiled agreement.

Five minutes later the shuttle touched down rather hard. Reddy glanced at Potter who made a face that could, for lack of a better term, be called a monkey face. Reddy unstrapped his belts and stood. "I'm going to go find the Ambassador, you stay and fix whatever you broke." He turned and hit the rear hatch door.

The ramp dropped and he was two paces off the ramp when the sheer heat of the desert planet struck him. If he had not been conditioned through years at the Academy, in the hot and humid air of San Francisco, Reddy probably would have dropped right there. But instead he walked around past the nose of the shuttle and stopped to get his bearing.

Quinn had briefed him and told him how to find Sokketh, the Vulcan monk/Ambassador was one of those men who was hard to find, and now Reddy was viewing the area he had been told that Sokketh would be in. In front of him, towards the rising of the sun, was a massive building beside a tall hill. Reddy could see that the hill presented some importance as he could see torches lining the steep slope upwards to the peek probably four hundred feet above. The building was very large and extended into the mountain beyond, Reddy saw a sculpture in front of it, he seemed to remember that one of the few sculptures around Vulcan monasteries was one dedicated to Ambassador Spock, who went missing several years ago when attempting to stop a supernova.

Reddy set out. His uniform, the standard formal duty uniform (Odyssey) with it's white shoulders presenting him as a commanding officer, had turned into an oven, he had gone maybe a quarter mile before he undid the cuffs and unbuttoned the top to give his body room to breath. The dark uniform that looked so good on the bridge of a starship soaked in the sun and the dry air began to bake Reddy. By the time he reached the edge of the settlement, with it's small huts and wells drawing water from underground, he was parched and blinded by sweat falling in his eyes.

He stumbled up to a Vulcan's yard and drank deeply from the muddy water most likely used to water the small crop in pots before the hut. A Vulcan man came from the building and held out a bowl of cool, clean, water. Reddy drank all of it.

Wiping his face, Reddy straightened himself and corrected his uniform. "I'm looking for Ambassador Sokketh."

The Vulcan nodded. "You must be the man who T'Pela said would be coming, Commander Patrick Reddy?" Reddy nodded, the Vulcan nodded slowly. "It was said that you would arrive soon, logically you would find Sokketh near the main building, but he is currently attending a Kal Rekk ritual at the top of the mountain."

Reddy sighed and looked up at the peak so far up in the air. "God save me."

"I am sorry Commander, but no deity can remove the climb, I would suggest you use the lift to reach the top, but that is only permitted of the most sacred purposes."

Reddy nodded and thanked the monk, he turned and walked back along the way he had come for eight hundred yards until he reached the base of the steep slope. He began to walk and was ready to drop by the time he reached a small landing just short of the ritual area. He took a moment and sat on a bench that he felt lucky was right there. Years of running at the academy hadn't ever prepared him for the thin atmosphere and heat of Vulcan, Reddy decided that a good rest was more important than completing his mission.

After several minutes of sitting and resting and young, five-six, dark haired Vulcan woman came from the entrance to the ritual area. She scanned the landing until her eyes fell on Reddy.

She walked over. "Commander Reddy I presume?"

Reddy regained himself and stood. "Indeed, T'Pela? Right?"

The Vulcan, uncharacteristically smiled. "Yes. Please come this way to meet the Ambassador."

T'Pela turned and went back through the entrance, Reddy moved behind her as she made her way past streams of Vulcan monks. The naturally enclosed hall opened up to an arena-like area with a sculpture in the middle. Few monks still remained, T'Pela angled away from them to nervous Vulcan who stood to the side in the clothes of an Ambassador.

"Lieutenant Commander Reddy, this is Ambassador Sokketh." T'Pela introduced.

"Yes, yes, T'Pela, why else would there be a Starfleet officer in a place as sacred as this?" the Ambassador seemed snobby, almost arrogant. "Please, forgive my Aide's incompetence, she never should have let you into this shrine."

"Not necessary Ambassador, it was logical of her to assume the haste that was requested of my ship in coming here." Reddy chose to use his most Vulcan-like tone. "I would ask that you are prepared to leave now?" he gave a small bow.

"If I was we'd be on our way now!" Sokketh snapped, Reddy pulled back in surprise. The Vulcan composed himself. "Pardon, but the High Priest, Savin, is trying to deny me entrance to the P'Jem monastery, and refuse me the right to leave Vulcan."

Reddy found it curious that the Ambassador had acted with such human emotion, however, the Ambassador did seem nervous and twitchy. "Please Ambassador, if there is anything I can do to help—"

Sokketh cut Reddy off. "Yes, yes, all very touching, I would like you to speak to Savin. Perhaps you can convince him to allow me off the planet."

Reddy was startled by the Vulcan's intrusion, he had seen Vulcans cut into conversations, but not as Sokketh had this one. "Very well, I will find and speak with Savin."

Reddy turned and looked about the arena and realized he had no idea who this High Priest Savin was. He turned and T'Pela jumped as Sokketh barked at her to perform her duties. She lead him to a group of hooded monks and presented him to one, his face shadowed by his hood, who said he was Savin.

"Ah, I was contacted and informed that a Starfleet officer might appear here to transport Sokketh, but the truth is that I feel he should postpone his annual trip to P'Jem." when Reddy asked why, Savin told him quite simply. "It seems much too dangerous, I have a friend who keeps me informed of many happenings, and he has told me of the Borg and the threats of Orions and Klingons."

Reddy gave a friendly smile. "Sir, I must protest, he will be in the capable hands of the _Walker_ , there should be nothing to worry about."

Savin wasn't convinced. "You say that, yet your ship currently has a record of being heavily damaged, and I am concerned for Sokketh, he has been away too much and has not been himself in the past days."

Reddy wished he could have offered some words to ensure he would protect Sokketh, but he had to remember that he commanded a Light Cruiser, not much else. "I was sent here on a mission, and I can't just let it drop." he struggled to keep the words from grinding out. "Is there anything I can do to assure you that nothing will go wrong?"

Savin sighed. "I will agree to let you take Sokketh. _Only_ if you swear to me, on your oath as a Starfleet officer, that you will do your utmost to protect both Sokketh and the monks of P'Jem."

Reddy nodded. "I swear, on my oath as an officer and Scotsman."

Savin seemed content with that. "Very well, you may go."

Reddy bowed and backed away. He straightened when he was away and strolled to where Sokketh conversed with T'Pela. "Savin has agreed to let you go, if you will proceed to the bottom of the slope, I must inform my pilot that we are on our way."

Sokketh concluded his business and walked away at a brisk pace. As he disappeared around the corner, Reddy shut his communicator he had been pretending to tune. He turned to the Vulcan aide.

"T'Pela," she looked startled that he would speak to her, "I wouldn't worry about what the Ambassador says, I think you're a fine Aide, and you'll make a great Ambassador someday."

T'Pela smiled. "Thank you Commander, and please take care." she offered a Vulcan salute.

Reddy set off, it was easy going down the mountain, and for some reason it seemed as though the desert slipped away as he trailed Sokketh to _Bandit_. Almost two hours had elapsed since they landed.

( _In this chapter is a reference to a 'Flash' Gordon. Flash Gordon is a fictional character from a WWII novel called Piece of Cake, he flies Hawker Hurricane's for the Royal Air Force. In May, 1940, Gordon's plane is heavily damaged and he is forced to return to his airfield in a French P-36 Hawk. En route, he engages a German Bf-110, a twin engines plane, strafing columns of refugees fleeing the German Army. Accidentally, Gordon drags his fire through a column of refugees, coincidentally his French wife dies while trying to hitchhike to the airfield she thinks he is at. Thinking he killed his wife, Gordon goes mad and begins to act like a madman, undermining authority, fighting in a suicidal fashion, and being an upstart. [Unfortunately he is a very humorous character at this point.] This book is one of my all time favorites, if you are interested in humor, off almost any kind, or wish for a good fictional account of the Battle of Britain, I would definitely suggest reading "Piece of Cake" by Derek Robinson.)_


	41. Episode 3: Part 4

Took me a little while to get this out due to work and people, please enjoy. (P.S. After playing STO for possibly a year or more, I finally hung unto one character long enough to make level 55. Is it odd that this character's name is Patrick Jacques Reddy?

 **Part 4**

Sokketh denied Reddy's dinner invitation. Originally Reddy had wish to reach P'Jem during the morning hours of the monastery, thus he had wished to have a 'dinner' around noon aboard his ship as dawn on P'Jem would be 1400 hours on _Walker_. The Ambassador changed that, instead he demanded that the trip be made at best speed, meaning that _Walker_ would arrive in the pre-dawn for the monastery. Reddy had wanted to finish the dinner by the time _Walker_ arrived in orbit, then see the ambassador off as ship would be patrolling the system for two days before it came around to pick him up. Now Reddy was sitting, brooding, in his command chair as they came up on P'Jem. Elisa had tried several times to raise his spirits, yet he had not been able to conjure any sense of happiness. His chance to release stress and improve his mood aboard a ship patrolling had failed, and it was only four hours since he left Vulcan with the Vulcan ambassador.

The mainscreen showed the enhanced view of the P'Jem System as they closed and whisked towards the planet P'Jem. As far as Reddy knew, the system was uninhabited, yet he had a funny feeling.

Reddy sat up. "Elisa, run a scan of the area, scan for transmissions and energy patterns."

Elisa was puzzled by this strange order, yet she went about the bridge and helped T'Vrell prepare the sciences department. After several seconds Reddy heard Elisa order for the scanning to commence with a single word, she stepped away from T'Vrell's chair and sat in her chair beside Reddy.

"Scan started, I told Morris to listen, but he is always doing that." Reddy nodded and continued to stare at the P'Jem System. "I don't know what you expect to find Captain, who would want to do anything violent in a system as void of life as this?"

Reddy opened his mouth to speak when. "We've got something." T'Vrell informed the bridge.

Elisa's eyes went wide. "I've got something as well." Morris stated, Reddy was becoming concerned as to if Elisa's eyes were going to pop out.

Like a good First Officer, she was up and consulting quickly with both crewmen before she returned to Reddy. "What you suggested was right, just a few seconds ago we detected a fluctuating energy pattern, at the same time Morris heard an encrypted transmission from that region of space. Computers have crunched out that there's a very high chance that it's a vessel cloaked, most likely Klingon."

Reddy rubbed his temples, while inwardly ecstatic his hunch was correct, he was upset that he had run into Klingons, again. "Bring us to Yellow Alert, inform the Ambassador that his meeting with the monks may be delayed." He told Tekz. "Elisa, what's the origin of these readings?"

Elisa looked over her shoulder at T'Vrell, the Vulcan replied. "Readings are coming from the area of the P'Jem, directly in orbit over the monastery."

Reddy groaned. "Go to Red Alert, Helmsman, take us in and drop out beyond the asteroid field."

The ship, traveling almost lazily through the system shifted course and accelerated, _Walker_ bore in and dropped out much too close to the asteroid field surrounding P'Jem. Helmsman Potter had to take some abrupt maneuvers that were a little much for the inertial compensators.

Reddy glared at the red-head. "Potter, if you insist on killing us please keep it confined to the holodecks." he said sarcastically.

As Potter stabilized, T'Vvrell perked up. "Sir, I'm getting a hail from a Klingon vessel, their captain is wishing to speak to you by name."

Reddy faced the mainscreen. "Onscreen!" he ordered.

The image of P'Jem through the asteroid field faded, and was replaced by the unhappy face of a Klingon warrior. "NuqneH, Commander."

Reddy now wished he had taken more linguistic courses at the Academy, or had donned the universal translator that Intelligence used. "I am Lieutenant Commander Reddy of the United Star Ship _Walker_."

"If I had not asked for you by name, I would have required that you identify yourself, Commander."

Reddy cut him off before he could continue. "You are intruding in Federation space, in a system with little or no strategic value, you obviously are not here by accident."

"Have you drawn a conclusion Commander?" the Klingon was acting like a former Captain training command students at the Academy.

Reddy shifted uncomfortably and clasped his hands behind his back, he chose not to humor the Klingon. "May I remind you that you are light years beyond the Empire's borders, an intrusion unforgivable. If I were to chose to attack you, I would be well within my rights to capture or destroy your ship, something that would dishonor you and your crew."

The Klingon's face changed. He stood, the view of his command chair was aimed upwards at the platform it sat upon; zoomed out Reddy could see the entire rearward bridge. The Klingon walked forward and dropped of the platform, filling the view with his head. "Enough! The _Vulcan_ aboard your ship is a foul shapshifter, an _Undine_!"

Reddy didn't believe this. He realized that this was similar to a scenario he had been on during time at the Academy, Command officers were given a very difficult choice, one that usually involved a false accusation.

"Have you any proof of this, Klingon?" Reddy casually asked, sitting back down.

"You challenge my word! I have killed comrades for less!" the Klingon screamed.

Reddy ordered the transmission cut. "Weapons and shields online, move us in closer to the planet."

The had almost cleared the asteroid field when Tex gave a shout. "Targets on sensors, two B'rel Bird-of-Preys and one QulDun."

Reddy looked at Elisa sitting beside him. "Seems like they decided to purchase something less aweful." Elisa laughed. Reddy looked back. "Weapons lock on and destroy the B'rels."

 _Walker_ pitched downward, they must have been hidden somehow for they caught the targets below them off guard. When her maneuver was complete, P'Jem hung directly above them as the Klingon Birds flew across their path in a downward motion.

A Starfleet Cruiser usually had a special room a few stories below the Bridge, commonly placed beneath a place called CIC (Combat Information Center) on larger vessels, this room was built around a center stage that had a bank of computers. On _Walker_ , this stage was small and had a single man who looked out, facing the outer walls all about him were six Non- and Full Commissioned Officers operating the phaser arrays and their 260° firing arcs, with two extra forward and one aft for the torpedo mounts. This person, the Fire Control Officer, was a tall woman who had once been a ballerina. She had joined Starfleet because her business, which she had inherited from her instructor, had been shut down. Unable to comprehend the advanced algorithms and math courses needed to be a scientist, as well as the conviction to pursue such a career, she had worked to make Fire Control Officer, and after two failed attempts, she had finally made it. Now, serving the man she had been a bitter contestant with, Icelander Rósinberg Hyltirsson leaned forward as _Walker_ lined her bow on the three targets.

"Banks One, Three, and Five lock unto target Alpha, Torpedoes to my control." Rósin saw that they still were unaware of the ship closing on them, she smiled as each of the three forward facing banks called out that they were locked on. As she reached for the salvo buzzer she thought of the First, and let her hate against the Klingons flow. Burn in Gre'thor. She thought. "Commence firing, one salvo!" she hit the salvo buzzer.

Walker still ran on the old weapons system of a triple mounted bank. It was a group of three phaser arrays firing from a single conduction point on the tip of them. It was an efficient was to preserve the state of phaser arrays but meant that the fire coming from each was less powerful than if the weapons were high tech. Fire Control Officer Hyltirsson had wanted to change them over to the newer firing systems but there hadn't been enough time.

Leaping from the bow, top and bottom, of Walker came orange trails of light, slicing through the night and crashing against Fire Control's target Alpha. Target Alpha had been selected not because it was the first target, but because it's shields were low. A salvo of phaser fire cut through the ship, twice on the starboard attack wing, and against the base of the neck. The ship shook and slewed as explosions rocked it about. Finally it split, in the way Klingon ships tended to, with the neck folding under the main ship while the engine pod was pitted with secondary explosion.

"Target change, target Baker, lock on and prepare to fire." the batteries reported ready. "Fire!" the salvo buzzer rang and the orange beams reached out again.

Target Baker, or the second B'rel, was luckier. It's shields saved it at first, even blocking the two torpedoes Walker launched, yet the dilapidated bird shook and it's shields came down. A third torpedo caught it dead center of the engine pods. It lit up brilliantly.

By now the QulDun had caught on, it had laid on a burst of speed forward and arced about to Walker's port side. It came in, disruptor cannons pulsing and torpedoes flying. Walker shook but nothing serious happened. Tied in to the Helm, FCO Hyltirsson ordered that they come about to starboard as the phaser tracked the faster moving QulDun.

"Weapons fire at will on Target Charlie."

The flames came forth again, pulsing against the Bird as it swung to it's port, it immediately veered away, bee line for the planet. At first Hyltirsson thought nothing was going to happen, but the ship pressed forward, her speed coming up to try and match the QulDun's powerful Impulse engines. The chase that insued was exciting. The QulDun running, just beyond weapons range, randomly firing torpedoes back into Walker's path. If the Klingon had played his cards right he would have survived, but he must have thought Walker would stop pursuing once they hit the atmosphere. He was part wrong, part right.

As the QulDun leveled off in the atmosphere, somewhere around forty thousand feet above the ground, Walker cut her forward momentum and used maneuvering thrusters to push her 'upwards' parallel to the ground far below. In usual cases, torpedo targetting was comepletely computerized, but Rósin had spent six years at the Academy honing her torpedo course calculation skills down to a fine art. She carefully aimed and fired. The single torpedo flew along a path she built for it, right until it hit the unsuspecting QulDun's tailpipe.

The QulDun crumbled, turning into a ball of falling fragments that landed just off the coast of P'Jem's largest continent.

Reddy sat back and realized that he would have made a sloppy FCO, he tried to remember his FCO's name but the strange name was void to his mind at the moment. He looked at Elisa. "Secure from Red Alert, but keep the ship on Yellow and have Sokketh prepare to beam down."

Elisa silently leaned over. "Pardon me Pat, but don't you think the Klingon's would have soldiers in the monastery? In case we drove them from orbit? Or just simply to kill the monks?"

Reddy resisted the urge to kick himself, of course the Klingons would have troops on the ground, they weren't idiots like he was. "Indeed, belay that last order Lieutenant." Reddy stood, Potter gave an expecting look over her shoulder. "Potter, contact T'Kira and have her send Ensign Haymore and three security officers to transporter room, we'll be beaming down." Reddy stopped as he turned away, what if the Klingons weren't down there? And his team showed up in full tactical gear with rifles waving in monks face. He turned back, "Have them equipped with pistols and standard belts only."

Reddy checked his watch, it was an hour before dawn on the P'Jem monastery.


	42. Episode 3: Part 5

**Part 5**

Reddy had planned to be off quickly, but as he made it to his room to change into the Duty Uniform (Sierra 1 Uniform) he was called from the bridge, Elisa stated that they had scanned the area surrounding the monastery and had detected no Klingon life signs. Still, Reddy decided to beam down and secure the area before Sokketh beamed down. Although the Vulcan was frivolous that Reddy had delayed his arrival, the Scotsman remained adamant and denied the Vulcan's request informing that he couldn't take any chances—which was true except it was because Reddy had placed his career on this, he could be a Lieutenant Commander for the rest of his life if Vulcans like T'Kitos became involved in the loss of the Ambassador.

As he was almost dressed, a cotton short-sleeve undershirt tucked into his neatly bloused combat pants. Over the shirt was a stiff leather combat jacket fitted with special panels meant to absorb phaser fire—the panels could be removed to make the jacket more comfortable for non-combat work, but they were very helpful to anyone working with heat or any type of energy, they were preferred among the Security Officers and Engineers. Reddy was like any other fresh-from-the-Academy officer, his combat boots were as clear as a mirror, and his jacket, with white colored shoulders to show that he was a CO, had not one fray or wrinkle. As he finished buttoning the high collar he lifted his head to look into his closet for anything he needed. His eyes immediately fell upon the remake of the Colt M1911 he had.

The weapon wasn't really his. Back almost two weeks ago he had been on Vega IX while the Borg assimilated the planet; while evacuating civilians, Reddy had fought alongside several civilians. When a phaser pistol he had borrowed had malfunctioned, a man beside him had given him the sidearm he must have cherished dearly. Reddy had found that the weapons and it's precious ammunition had been kept in wondrous condition. Reddy had been beamed up without orders, in anger he had threatened to kill Elisa with it, now he looked at polished pistol and fine leather holster and took it from the closet.

The holster was obviously custom made, designed to wrap completely around the left thigh, the holster was rather large in area, but smooth and fitted Reddy well, especially since he had always been left handed, but all Starfleet holsters fitted the pistol on the right. As Reddy decided to take the weapon with him he thought back to all the years of bad phaser course scores because he wasn't able to cross-draw his phaser and use his left hand. Now, since there was little chance of encountering Klingons, Reddy found that the Colt would come in handy, and if they did it had four spare clips on the belt part of the holster, each holding nine bullets.

Checking that his uniform was sharp looking, Reddy departed his room and quickly walked, aided by long legs, to the one transporter room _Walker_ had. As Reddy entered he found a strange group ready to beam out.

There was Rebecca Haymore, Assistant Security Officer, an African Reddy remembered from his security classes as Ensign Asher Moss, and finally a Ferasan. The latter startled Reddy, he had met several Caitians at the Academy, and knew several on board, but he was surprised to see a Ferasan Master Sergeant standing before him with a black chupalla and a holster on his right hip.

The cat, with a roughly groomed blue-black fur, looked at Reddy. "You've never seen a Ferasan sir? How unfortunate." He came to his feet and Reddy remembered that some Ferasans were telepathic. The cat produced a hand. "Shevas, Shevas Ne'Yor, Master Sergeant." he once again read Reddy's mind.

Reddy recovered his poise and looked the equally tall cat-like being up and down, walking about him in the process. He stood back in front of the cat and pointed to the weapon at his hip. "Explain that weapon Sergeant."

Sergeant Ne'Yor drew the revolver from it's holster. "Model 1862 Lefaucheux Pin-fired Revolver, sir. She's a double action and a classic." He held the weapon out to Reddy. "I had a friend whose ancestors fought in a war back in the mid-19th Century, one saved this weapon and passing generations passed it down until he died on the First."

Reddy examined the weapons closely, it's paint was spotless, the wooden grip perfectly smooth, he opened the hinged loading gate. "It's rifled sir, I've practiced enough that I can hit a man in the chest at thirty yards. My friend had no family to give it too, I told him I'd carry it for him."

Reddy handed the weapon back. "Fine piece Sergeant, I'll let you keep it." he turned and addressed Rebecca. "Any special details I need to know?" he asked.

Rebecca took around twenty minutes to show him the lay out of the monastery. Although there was no sign of Klingons on the planet, they would be beaming down outside the settlement to avoid beaming into any ritual or special event going on. They'd beam down in the first clearing large enough in the dense forest, they'd have to trek at least seven miles to get to the edge of the settlement.

By the time the four person team stood on the pad it was a quarter hour before the sun dawned on the area of P'Jem they were beaming to. The transporter room door slid open and a short red-head rushed unto the pad in her uniform with the red shoulders for a command officer. It was Potter with her dahar and phaser side by side on her away team belt.

"Cap." she said as she jumped unto the pad.

Reddy looked at her. "Potter, just what the bloody hell are you doing here?"

Rebecca cleared her throat. "I arranged for her to be our _Walker_ -Away Team liaison." she said.

Reddy sighed, closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm his nerves. Now his team was the five officers he had asked for. He opened his eyes and looked at the awaiting Transporter Chief. "Energize."

The Trill pressed a series of buttons and Reddy was blinded by the blue haze that came from having your particles scattered and focused into a beam to the planet below.

The blue faded and Reddy was looking at a dense wall of brush. The eyes of the team swung about the clearing and the surrounding wood, each person called out that they couldn't see anything, Moss and Ne'Yor scattered out and established a perimeter.

"Sure is quiet." Rebecca stated.

"Keep frosty, I don't intend to be jumped today." Reddy called the team together. "I'll take point, Haymore bring up the rear, we're moving."

The woods were lit by a predawn gray as they headed off through the dense undergrowth. The reason Rebecca had selected this spot was for the narrow path moving away towards the monastery, they moved at a casual rate, having to stop occasionally to drink water in the humid air of the P'Jem forest. Eventually they came to a dip in the path as it went straight through a saddle in the woods. A twig snapped in the woods and Reddy brought up a hand and ordered the team behind a fallen tree ten yards ahead at the edge of the saddle.

"Haymore, tricorder, scan the woods ahead of us."

Although wondering why she had been ordered to do so, Rebecca did as she was told and was astonished by the results. "Sir, four Klingon lifeforms ahead, both sides of the trail." She whispered.

Reddy looked carefully over the edge of the tree, he looked down just in time to see a red dot moving up the trunk towards him. He ducked down and a second later the tree behind him, right in line with his head, exploded as a green bolt struck it. The tree they crouched behind began to shudder as the Klingon's position was revealed and they tried to keep the team pinned, yet Ne'Yor had spotted the source of two of the snipers and called for fire on them.

"Haymore, Potter, eyes on. Sarge, strafe out and draw their fire."

Ne'Yor nodded, the two assigned took position while Moss looked on their side of the path for the two riflemen who were pinning them down. Reddy yelled for them to go and the sergeant ducked out, his powerful muscles powering him ten yards away, the firing let up and Potter and Haymore sought their targets. Their phasers tracked through the trees across the way and the high powered bolts of energy from the snipers ceased.

Ten yard away Ne'Yor was pinned by the riflemen, their assault rifles sent long streams of disruptor fire over his head and against the very small tree he used as cover. Shimmying under the log he rolled down the slope. As the world spun he did see some phaser fire return, but the onslaught of fire never let up. Ne'Yor came to a hard stop against a rock at the bottom of the saddle, the fire had directed else where and he could see the shifting bushes where one of the riflemen hid. He collected himself and crawled up the slope until he was even with the Klingon.

It was in this moment that racial bigotry affected Ne'Yor's decision. He had been denied access to Starfleet Academy and the Special Marine Training Corps five years ago when he had been a skilled young Ferasan, all because of how many of his race served the Empire, he was the only Ferasan in Starfleet, and he hated the Klingon Empire with a passion. Drawing his pistol, which he had holstered when he rolled down the hill, he drew the heavy firing hammer back and aimed. The gun went off with a spark and crack, the bullet 12 millimeter bullet dissolving the warrior's head into a cloud of Klingon blood.

His position was compromised and disruptor bolts cracked around him, rolling on his back, the sergeant slid down the hill to the bottom of the saddle where he watched as the area from which the rifleman had fired was lit up by three phasers. There was rustling in the bushes and a burnt and lifeless body rolled down the slope into the small stream at the bottom.

For several seconds each member of the team expected something else to happen, be it an explosion or a cry from a charging group of warriors. When nothing did happen Sergeant Ne'Yor stood and waved the team down into the saddle.

"Looks like our sensors were wrong." Ne'Yor said.

"Indeed, or they just beamed down and _Walker_ hasn't made contact with us or their hidden ships yet." There was general agreement with Reddy's thought. "Well, looks like the stroll is over," he said, drawing his Colt 1911. "we're running to the settlement now."

Moss said something about his daily physical training but most of the group had already taken off after the Scotsman and the short helmsman on his heels.


	43. Episode 3: Part 6

**Took me some time, but I finally completed this rather long and (possibly) horrible collection of combat sequences. Maybe I'll get around to reading a good close-combat book and learning how to write combat. Enjoy.**

 **Part 6**

Reddy hit the ground a rolled green bolts bracketed where he had been. He ducked his head in the small cover of a lucky dip in the ground. There were hisses of regular phasers, the loud blare of Klingon disruptors, and the precise crack of Master Sergeant Ne'Yor's Lefaucheux as they engaged the platoon of Klingons who had been holding this side of the village.

The explosions of the dirt around Reddy stopped as the Klingons presumed him dead, Reddy leaned up and barely peaked over the edge, he could see two Klingons hiding behind a garden wall from here. He drew his Colt, aimed and fired. Three rounds dropped the first, his next one caught the second in the head. As soon as he dropped the second the ground before him was ripped by disruptor fire, he ducked again and listened to the crescendo of the fight.

Off to the right of the battle, Rebecca and the Ferasan were hiding behind a log, taking turn firing at a group of Klingons who were firing from a building across the way, the same building from which fire was pinning Reddy down. They were fighting beside two buildings, one was solid and windowless, the other appeared to be of higher class with three windows on the side facing the away team.

Rebecca ducked and Shevas aimed over the top of the trunk at the window from which an assault rifle was firing, he quickly pulled the heavy double action trigger to squeeze off two shots. A pain shattered, this one just beside the one broken to allow the Klingon to fire, and the firing stopped. Somehow the fire was weaker now, the two ill-aimed beam rifles trying to hold the two in their place were still inaccurate yet the hailstorm of energy homing in on Reddy, Potter, and Moss had let up, leaving the Ferasan to believe that something was up.

"Does the fire look lighter to you?"

As if he jinxed it, a green bolt came from behind them and hit Rebecca's right leg. Bent about as she knelt, the bolt hit both her shin and her thigh, she screamed and Shevas turned to squeeze off two quick shots into the Klingon. Another swung around the corner and he shot it in the face, he stood and cleared the corner. When he turned back he heard a distinct 'Fire in the hole!' and he dove to the log as a photon grenade exploded in the house opposite.

When the debris settled and the house was through collapsing, the firing had settled and Shevas could see the Klingons retreating. "We have wounded!" he called out to the team. Moss was there almost immediately with a hypo to kill the pain that had Rebeccas writhing on the ground.

Commander Reddy rushed over with Potter, pistol alert and eyes sweeping the area, he pointed for Potter to check the edge of the house. "How bad is it Moss?"

The short African was poking at the burnt flesh. Rebecca was growing drowsy from the painkiller, Moss ventured to disclose his thoughts in a low voice. "She's hit bad, needs medical attention, _now_."

Reddy drew his communicator. "Reddy to _Walker_." he hailed.

" _Walker_ here sir, Flores speaking."

"Elisa, have the transporter room lock unto Ensign's Haymore and Moss, beam them up and have a medical gurney waiting." he and Ne'Yor stepped away from the two officers.

"Aye Captain, need any assistance sir?" Flores asked.

"Negative, Mister Moss will brief you upon arrival. Reddy out." he closed the communicator and put it back on his belt.

"Ah, Cap'n, I may be mistaken, but we do need backup, lots." Ne'Yor said as Moss and Haymore beamed away.

"Indeed Sergeant, but that's what the Klingons might expect, with our small numbers we can be more covert in reaching the hilltop." There was a small settlement for the monks surrounding the hilltop monastery, which they had too be off to. "Come along now, and be alert, those warriors will be back."

Setting out, they moved covertly along the edge of the settlement, seeing only a few Klingons moving about and rounding the monks towards the center of the settlement, until they reached the base of the rock cliff that reached up to where the monastery would be. They began to set out for the top of the cliff via the steep and winding path up, but only though luck did they managed to avoid a large patrol coming down. So close, that at one point a single fern hid Ne'Yor from the patrol. They were lucky to remain undetected.

Moving away from the settlement a half mile around the cliff face, they found passage up a steady grade and found it much easier than the steep path they would have faced, and free of any Klingon patrols. A quarter mile from the rim they slowed due to the dense undergrowth and were forced to crawl to avoid any eyes possibly watching them. After five minutes Reddy's communicator bleeped.

Scared senseless from the break in tension, Reddy opened the device and sat for several seconds waiting for a voice to come over it.

"Hello? _Walker_ to Reddy, com in." It was Elisa, Reddy breathed a sigh, at least the Klingons didn't have any frequency monitoring device that could tap their communications.

"Reddy here," he ran out a long string of numbers and letters for authorization. "We have a Klingon situation down here, I'd bet somewhere around two hundred Klingons in the area."

"Aye, we've had problems up here as well. A number of ships have engaged us, however none have been brave enough to carry the attack through. Would you like me to beam troops down on your location?"

"Negative, beam a team into the same area you did us, and have them slowly advance into the area of the settlement." Reddy glanced to his left where five yards away, Ne'Yor was carefully aiming up the slope with his pistol. "But do beam us down a set of three rifles, preferrable one of them will be something less standard."

"Understood, we'll beam those rifles down immediately, and the soldiers soon after." Elisa closed the line and thirty seconds later there was a hum and three plain white weapons were a few yards up the slope.

The three converged on the weapons and Reddy rolled on his side to look at the Ferasan. "What's your rifleman rating son?"

"Thirty-seven sir." It wasn't the highest, with the best being fifty, but it was probably better than Reddy and Potter combined.

Reddy gave the man the sniper rifle and took his own. Smiling, he realized that it was one of the rather fancy 'auto' rifles. Unlike the beam rifles, the 'auto' utilized a compression chamber, much like a compression pistol, and turned a long beam of energy into a tight ball focused to destroy. Not many races had managed to compress the system enough for it to be useful, the Klingons had, and now the technology was beginning to become popular in Starfleet. It had taken years for it to reach an efficient enough level to work as an 'automatic' allowing the user to fire dozens of bolts in several seconds, rather than wait for the compressor to recharge. Reddy seemed to remember it being a large problem for the early fighters of the Borg, their weapons fired to slowly, and they could not render enough shots to successfully down them before they adapted. Thankfully the adaptation problem had been solved, now, the Federation had little to fear from the Borg, as long as they could get their guns aimed in time.

Tucking the gun under him, Reddy continued up the slope until he reached the edge of a low stone wall. The last of his team behind him, Reddy looked cautiously over it, ready to flip his gun over and fire. He could hear the laughter of Klingons warriors, but Reddy could not see past the building, he assumed that there was a square beyond here. He waved the team on.

Sure enough, they moved along an alley between houses and peaked out from behind some stacked bales of a hay-like substance, in the courtyard before the monastery a score of Klingons held a dozen monks at gunpoint. A small command post seemed to be set up, and Reddy recognized and the high rank of a Klingon walking about, something along the lines of a Brigadier. Reddy had gone up the alley alone, leaving Potter and Ne'Yor behind in case he was seen, he waved them up.

"Sergeant, can you hit that Brigadier." he whispered.

The Sergeant leveled the rifle, propping it on a bale of straw. "I think so sir."

Reddy looked at the careless Klingons. "Good," he looked at Potter and pointed to the house on Ne'Yor's side of the alley. "Find a window and look out, wait for my signal."

"Aye sir." Potter, crouching low, left towards the back garden and the door next to it.

Reddy looked at his watch then at the sergeant. "In three minutes, kill their brigadier. Then we'll try to force them to surrender. . .if they don't? Then kill all of them, I want you to protect the prisoners, make sure no on tried to execute them in the fray." the Ferasan nodded and gazed down his sights.

Reddy moved off quickly and was soon in the attic of the house he had been beside, opposite of Potter. He looked out the closed top window and quietly unhooked the window, careful not to crack it or make a noise that would give him away. He brought a few straw sacks over and used them to create an optimal sniping position, which he would use more as a spraying and praying position and settled down to wait for Ne'Yor to fire.

Like clockwork, an orange bolt flew from the alley and struck the Brigadier square in the head. The Klingon pitched forward and fell against the Vulcan he had been interrogating. For several seconds the Klingons around him were startled and silent.

"Surrender!" Reddy yelled from his position high above them. He ducked back as the window exploded, followed by a cacophony of disruptor fire. Reddy moved up to the window to see two more Klingons on the ground now. He took aim and sprayed into a group hiding far opposite of him, he saw at least two drop down, lifeless. In a few seconds the battle was over, fifteen Klingons lay dead, one held his gun up in surrender while another was missing and three writhed in pain. As soon as he was from the house and the area was secured, Reddy called the ship and ordered that a security team and a medical group be sent down. By the time Potter said she could hear Klingons coming up the path, eight security officers beamed in and were directed by the Ferasan to defend the top of the hill. As the medical personnel, led by none other than the unbearable O'Konnell. Reddy found the high priest dead at the top of the steps into the monastery. He heard another transport and stood to look into the courtyard. He didn't realize the newcomer was Elisa until she shouted and rushed up the steps to him.

She glanced at the body behind him. "High Priest?" Reddy simply nodded. "I'd hate to be around when the Ambassador found out about this."

"Good you're my Number One so you'll be there." Reddy sat down and rested himself, he could hear weapons fire in the distance. "How is Rebecca?"

Before Elisa could say anything her communicator chirped. "Flores here."

" _Walker, requesting yours and the Captain's presence on the bridge immediately._ " Elisa looked at Reddy for his approval. He stood and nodded.

"Very well _Walker_ , beam us straight to the bridge."

A slight tingling and Reddy was looking at the bridge. Morris stepped up. "Welcome aboard Cap."

"What is it Morris?"

The Floridan took them over to an empty screen and called to T'Vrell. "Place the message on here."

The gray out faded and there was the young face of T'Pela. "Oh, Commander, I am happy to see that it is too late." She spoke quick and was greatly distressed. "No time for formalities, we found Ambassador Sokketh's body behind his estate not but fifteen minutes ago. Commander the man you have aboard is not the Ambassador."

Reddy felt his heart fill with dread, how many Klingons? How many of his own wounded? He spun about and raced for the turbolift. "Have security meet me outside Sokketh's quarters."


	44. Episode 3: Part 7

**DERP! I really did not realize that the combadge is what it's called! A COMBADGE! I probably wouldn't blame you if you quite reading this story right now.**

 **Part 7**

Reddy found the corridor outside the Ambassadors quarters to be blockaded by a troop of security guards, and the corridors beyond the same. Moss was standing along Reddy's approach, he turned at the sound of Reddy's quick feet beating along the deck.

"No sound from the room." He said, handing Reddy a Phaser pistol as the Scotsman passed his Colt off to a crewman.

"You have any word from the ground?" Reddy asked as he checked the pistol setting, he set it to stun.

"Aye, we got a sensor array set up and have swept the area, last I heard we were mopping up the final resistance. That was three minutes ago sir." He saw the change and slapped his combadge to order the group to do the same.

Reddy glanced down the hall, walking a short way to peer around the bend to the opposite group and Sokketh's door. "We told Sokketh that several were going down to secure the area, he may not know that I am aboard. Moss, I want you to go up and bring him out, like you were escorting him too the transporter room. Once we got him out, _everyone_ , stuns him."

"Aye sir." Moss slapped his badge again. "All teams, advance into sight of door. I will attempt to bring suspect from room, once into hall, all crew will shoot to stun the suspect."

They did, a few seconds later the teams were crouching just outside the door, far enough away they couldn't be spotted from the room. Moss, assuming that this would be just like in training, and suspected nothing, walked to the door and rang the bell. From Reddy's position down the hall he saw Moss jump back and suddenly be lashed by a muscular limb, purplish in color, and fly so hard against the opposite wall that he dented it. By the time Reddy made the door, the great monstrosity had retreated back, and he barely squeezed the trigger before the creature beamed away.

A sergeant standing beside him. "That looked like a bloody Undine!" he exclaimed.

Reddy ignored the man and slapped his combadge. "Reddy to Flores." he knelt beside Moss and checked him, no pulse.

"Flores here."

"Moss is dead, and Sokketh appeared to be a Undine. He's beamed off the ship." He heard Flores swear. "Hold off on action until I get to the bridge, place us directly over the settlement and warn the officers below. I'm on my way now." He closed the link and told a Sergeant to take over, the burly alien Chief bellowed out for the 'miscreants' to pull some order together, Reddy marched off at a breakneck pace until he reached the turbolift to the bridge.

As he stepped out, Elisa began to ask what happened but he held out a hand and stopped her. "Moss is dead, the Ambassador was an Undine and escaped, not much else than what I told you before."

Elisa turned to Morris. "Morris, the ship is most likely using a type of cloaking device, fire up the scanners and—"

"No!" Reddy interrupted; Elisa looked at him, shocked. He composed himself. "No."

"But sir! If we don't fire up the scanners—"

Reddy cut her off again. "Mister Morris, use regular sensors to sweep the area. I want you to do what you did on the first, pinpoint him and fire before he knows we have him locked on." He turned to the helm, an Andorain was sitting in Potter's absence. He looked back at Flores. "One, get Potter back up here." he went to sit. "Two, position up over the monastery and hold us there, make it look like we have no idea where he is and we're guarding the planet."

"Should I send a transmission to Starfleet for help?" T'Vrell said, mechanical as usual.

"Good idea, but don't say it exactly. Mention that we have a Klingon presence and request some medical assistance." Reddy stared out the screen and muttered under his breath for the enemy to come out. "Go to Red Alert, but silently."

From what he had heard, the Undine built ships that were top of the line, much better than the dilapidated designs that dominated three quarters of Starfleet. If he could take her on without warning her, he might manage to do some damage, maybe even drive her off, before either a squadron arrived or, unfortunately, _Walker_ was destroyed.

"Transmission sent." T'Vrell informed.

"Very well, monitor all frequencies and listen for any transmissions in Undine." Reddy leaned forward and still gazed at the viewscreen.

After five minutes, Starfleet replied that a relief squadron was in route, two minutes later Potter walked unto the bridge and took the helm. A minute later Morris let out a call.

"I've got 'er!" he exclaimed.

Reddy's head snapped around. "Transfer coordinates to weapons control and order them to fire!"

Exactly 5.68 seconds later the phasers of USS _Walker_ opened up on a seemingly empty region of space. Before the orange beams could cut through the area and into oblivion, there was fire as they cut at the unshielded hull of a Undine dreadnought. After a few seconds of fire, and before a second salvo could be fired, the ship came fully uncloaked and into a fighting stance.

"Sensors confirm! Enemy is exactly one thousand meters long and twice as well armed as a Sovereign." Flores said from her tactical station behind and above the command chair.

"Helm, take us away, shields at maximum and engines to two thirds power. Keep us as far away as possible until help arrives." as the first tremor of enemy fire ran through the deck he looked at T'Vrell. "Speaking of which, T'Vrell, how long until those ships arrive?"

"A task group of ships is inbound in two minutes."

Reddy cursed under his breath. The deck shook again as an Undine torpedo slammed against the rearward shields. Potter had plotted a bad course, or so it would seem until the relatively maneuverable _Miranda-_ class took her chance to dodge through the asteroid belt surrounding P'Jem. As soon as she entered and began to dodge between larger chunks of rock the firing let up and Reddy could cease to worry about the damage reports coming in. He stepped down from the platform that his command chair was on and tapped Potter on the shoulder.

"Keep us behind asteroids until the task force arrives, make sure the Undine only have a few seconds to shoot at us."

"One minute." T'Vrell informed.

For the next sixty seconds, which seemed to stretch into eternity, Tekz and Potter worked together to navigate the ship about and avoid the harassing fire of the Undine Dreadnought. Finally, as they seemed to be out of options, a group of five vessels appeared far off on the opposite side of the belt.

 _Walker_ made for them, engines pushing harder than designed as their very life depended on it. Once again she shook as a heavy warhead slammed against their aft shields, rocking some of the bridge crew from their seats.

"Damage report!" Reddy called.

Elisa was at her station behind him. "Minor buckling of exterior plates, no major damage. No casualties as of yet." She tried and did rather well at keeping her voice calm.

"Navigation! How long until the Undine ship is in the task force's weapons range?"

"Only thirty seconds sir, they're closing quickly." Tekz said as he pulled himself back into his seat.

"Have weapons lock on, Flores, and fire at the exact moment the task force does." He shifted as Arripak came into view. "What is it Ensign?" he asked, he had not spoken at all to the Ferengi since Vega IX

"Sir, I believe we damaged the ship quite critically when we hit it in cloak. I think we managed to damage her warp core." he spoke low and was crouching beside Reddy's chair, looking at the gray dots growing before them.

"So?" Reddy said impatiently."

"'So' she would have cut her losses and jumped away if she wasn't damaged." Reddy didn't see where the Ferengi was going. "Sir, she's a bloody great dreadnought, and if she needn't have engines to do damage, she can sit in one spot and pound at us while we pound at her, the main question will be whose weapons hit something important first."

Reddy saw now, he looked at T'Vrell. "Patch me through to the lead ship, now." T'Vrell nodded and reported that she had contact with the USS _Kirk_. Reddy pressed his audio button. "This is Lieutenant Commander Reddy, USS _Walker_ , the ship pursuing is a very large and powerful ship, it is suggested that we all direct fire on a certain point of the ship. We believed we have damaged the Undine ship's warp core, she won't be able to leave the system until repaired. Enemy is dangerous and has superior weaponry, suggest single channel contact from a tactical command."

He closed his line and several seconds later T'Vrell spoke from her station. "Sir, Captain Thelin has established himself as tactical command, he has ordered that all ships bring best fire to bear on the forward shields of the warship."

"Make it so tactical." Reddy told Flores.

"Aye sir." She worked calculations on her console and transferred it to the Helm and Fire Control.

"T'Vrell, link the channel into Helm and Fire Control." Reddy ordered.

What followed turned out to be textbook. _Walker_ joined the group of five starships, which included two _Constitution_ -cargo-class ships, two _Ushaan_ -class escorts, and a _Gryphon_ -class, and made a turn to port and began to let their weapons blaze away at the massive dreadnought—amazingly, the entire task group came from the support fleet, meaning that their weapons were built like a cruiser and were designed to offer the best firing position from their broadside. For almost two minutes the six ships took fire and gave it back, they fired on the slow moving vessel, now under a vicious fire despite the deliverers of it. Soon the shield dropped, and Thelin ordered his small squadron into a head-on line, with which they pumped torpedo after torpedo into the helpless Undine ship. Despite her powerful weapons, she was cut down in a way that would have humiliated the lowliest of Klingons. It wasn't but thirty seconds after they switched to torpedoes that the ship ended her self and exploded in a brilliant, and blinding, orange cloud of fire.

"Sir, Captain Thelin is hailing us."

"Onscreen." Reddy sighed and sat back in his chair.

The screen changed and the blue features of a Andorian appeared. "Commander, I must commend you, for your ability to survive and that cunning dissection of the situation."

Reddy didn't exactly care about Thelin's commendation. "I have personnel on the planet, I presume you brought teams to tend to the monastery?"

Thelin looked taken aback by the curtness in Reddy's Scottish voice. "Indeed, we'll send them down immediately and have your men sent up."

"Thank you Captain, we'll be returning to the Una Fleet as soon as we have our men aboard." His original orders had specified that once he had returned Ambassador Sokketh to Vulcan he would return to the Una Fleet, yet someone had blown that plan straight from the water.

"But Commander, should you not come aboard to report to me the full situation?" Thelin had a strange arrogant sway to the way he sat, and his voice showed an amount as well.

"No, Captain." Reddy said very firmly. "I don't answer to you, and I'm done with tarrying." He cut the transmission.

Elisa was about to speak at his abruptness but he stood and walked off the bridge. "Take the conn Flores, and get my damn crew up here. Then take us to the Una System."


	45. Episode 3: Part 8 (Conclusion)

**Part 8 (Conclusion)**

Reddy flicked off his coat and tossed it into the closet in anger. It had a number of disruptor burns on it and was dirty from rolling about in the thick leaves that had covered the ground of P'Jem. Once he had stripped he went to shower, stubbing his toe along the way only made him more angry. By the time he got out he was still fuming.

"Captain of a starship, full of dangers." he kept saying to himself. A toll had finally come in, two of his crew had been killed. One was Ensign Asher Moss, the other was a seventeen year-old Indian who had been killed by a Klingon sniper. He had four wounds, with the one serious being Haymore and her damaged leg. Yet still Reddy was furious. Time and time again the scenarios ran through his head, Haymore getting shot, Moss being killed, the impact of Undine torpedoes, it all came back to him as the anger flew from his body in the hands he wore and called his own.

Eventually Reddy swallowed his anger temporarily and donned his service uniform for the funerals he had ordered be performed—he had done this as soon as he arrived at his quarters. Elisa had requested permission from the Una Flagship and had positioned the _Walker_ close to the sun. Reddy managed to keep bearing and make the textbook words for the lost soldiers sound like they had some meaning, and soon the coffins, built to be shot from torpedo tubes, were loaded and fired into the sun. He didn't cry, instead he bit his lip and squeezed his hands in anger. As the ceremony finished he went to the bridge and spent the last of his day there, finally retiring with a small meal to his room. He had angrily finished his meal, after he had failed to calm his nerves with some of his Stan and Garnet Rogers collection, when the whistle sounded on his door. He slapped his head against his hands and swore.

"Enter." he shouted angrily.

The doors slid aside and a tall and beautiful figure stepped through the door. It was T'Kira. The Vulcan hadn't come to Reddy's quarters since he came back aboard, in fact they had hardly met or spoken since then. He didn't know but for some reason most of the Vulcans aboard the ship had been doing that, with the strange exception of T'Vrell, and he would have been worried if not for the stress of the past week.

T'Kira had her hands behind her back, she withdrew them to hold before Reddy his .45 and holster. "A fascinating weapon Captain, I do ask your forgiveness for I disassembled and then reassembled it before I returned here."

Reddy thought of what to say, he had missed the company of the slender Vulcan, and he could see that his 'lessons' on how to be more human had somewhat worn off in their time apart.

T'Kira noticed his lack of speech. "Sometimes, certain Vulcans, especially those who are not as good at supressing their emotions, have a period, where they are extremely unstable. From raging fury, to unending depression. It commonly happens once or twice in a lifetime, and many of us meditated very carefully to prevent us from experiencing this phenomena during exams week and the training cruise." T'Kira explained.

Reddy nodded his head slowly and asked her to continue. "Many of us, especially those who have joined Starfleet, have been lucky to survive this long without having such breakdowns. A small number of us did after what happened on the First, and some of us did after Pollux and Vega." She sat on the couch that Reddy hadn't removed from the quarters. "I knew that around you I would not be able to control my emotions, so I isolated myself in my quarters and gave all commands to the Security Staff from there."

He nodded, standing and sitting in a comfy chair he had had brought in from a shop in Scotland. "What about T'Vrell?"

T'Kira shifted and crossed one leg over the other. "T'Vrell is a pure blooded Vulcan, we, however, are commonly descendants of half Vulcans who married pure blooded Vulcans, making us still part human." she looked at her well shined boots and tried to avoid Reddy's gaze.

Reddy stood and stepped over, the Vulcan had her hands propped on her kneecap, he took them and bent down to kiss them. "T'Kira, I've had a hell of a day, and a hell of a week before that. Frankly, I'm just glad this one is over and maybe tomorrow will be better."

A sweet smile came across T'Kira's lips, she stood, bringing Reddy up with her, and kissed him. "It is logical that you suggest that, however—"

She didn't finish, Reddy wrapped her up in his arms and cut away her words with a strong passionate kiss. Holding it, he took them over to his room and lay them on the bed. The only time they broke contact was to change to their sleeping clothes, when redressed they lay back down and held each other, in hopes for a better tomorrow, through the long and, thankfully, uneventful night.

(Conclusion)

Once again thank you for bearing my horrible writing. I'm glad to say that as of me writing this, 6/15/16, we had 520 views on the story (Last I checked), this makes me happy mainly because I know its about one hundred more after the deletion of my original intro. But that really doesn't matter, the fact is that this is being viewed and that I'm not entirely wasting my time.

As it was brought to my attention by a casual reviewer, my writing is quite different from the mainstream Star Trek canon. For this, I must explain that there is indeed money in this 25th Century Federation, that's mainly because sometime between the end of the TNG and the beginning of TGA (Or Star Trek Online) there was a fallout that caused the Federation to go back to a regular currency, this being the Energy Credit (or EC). Unfortunately the Federation is rather short of this, and hugely in dept.

As a note on this episode, I hope I have developed enough of certain people aboard the USS _Walker_ to keep you interested on to later stories. By the way, the next episode may be a strange one because it will most likely include the retaking of the Vega System, which could also make it really long. Also, for some of the ladies who may dare to read this story, you may feel a little upset about Reddy's little 'cheat' with Elisa Flores, this was something that just sorta happened, and probably will never happen again until after T'Kira dies. ( **SPOILERS!)** Anyway, Reddy is trying to be a stable and man loyal to his lovers. Well being loyal to Andrews didn't end well, and part of the reason he felt so bad at the end of this episode was because he had cheated of T'Kira. Right now, they aren't really lovers, well they are, but they aren't going all the way yet. I can't see why, (writer's talk here) they would probably do good together but I just can't make them do it. WHY! Comeon Patrick! Just kiss her and do something other than cuddle, we all wish you would, just do it! (I have no idea what that was but I'm leaving it up anyway.)

I feel that that is all, which it probably isn't because I'll think of something as soon as this chapter goes live but, what the hell, that's what private messaging is for!

Please enjoy this chapter and the ones coming after it. Cheerio!


	46. Episode 4: Requiem for Vega

The Great Arc: Episode 4

Requiem for Vega

Somewhere twenty-five lightyears from Earth, along one's route to the Neutral Zone and Drozona Station, was a star lighting a nine planet system. This star was called Vega. It was first founded in the 22nd Century, and since then had grown to a system with several colonies through the years, producing raw materials and manufactured ones for many systems in the Risa Sector. The Vega System became known for it's manufactured products, as well as the home of a strange god-like species that went extinct in the 23rd century, and eventually fell away from the charts as the United Federation of Planets moved on to more epic lengths and locations.

Yet for a short time in the 2409, Vega found it's way into the limelight when a Borg incursion, starting in and migrating from the Pollux System, landed right in the system. In fifteen hours, five colonies, hosting thirteen million civilians, were assimilated with less than a thousand being rescued and accounted for. It became the greatest catastrophe in the first quarter of the century.

Shaken by the suddenness of the Borg attack, Starfleet was caught off guard, and thus regrouped in the Una System. Held there by bureaucracy, the fleet had waited too long to respond to the Borg threat, as officers called for an attack, the Starfleet Council was held back by a single Vulcan councilman who held most of the council in his favor. It was eventually more than a week before a commander was assigned to what was known as the Una Fleet, and almost a month more before Commodore Sir George Horrocks had secured his command and had finished planning a daring assault on the system.

 **Part 1**

 **(March 10, 2409, 0955 hours [Stardate 86187.4]**

Commodore George Horrocks stopped in the deserted hall of his new command of an _Excelsior_ -class. Taking several steps back he looked down a hall he had just passed and saw a tall auburn-haired Lieutenant Commander approaching him. His walk was awkward looking as he flung his long legs out before him and closed the distance without actually having to run.

"Ah thooght I'd ne'er fin' ye.." Lieutenant Commander Patrick Jacques Reddy said.

Horrocks didn't know the man well, and hadn't before about a week ago, yet he was eternally grateful to him for pushing the Starfleet Council to a decision that placed George as commander of the Una Fleet. "I guess it is quite a large ship." George said so to humor the man, while the Britisher had spent most of his career aboard large ships, while Reddy, a man who had never been in anything bigger than a _Miranda-_ class.

"Indeed, I've gotten tint ance ur twice, finally hud to ask fur directions doon haur." They were in the secondary hull, just aft of the arboretum where George commonly had his morning meal.

George widened his friendly smile and waved the man along. He had received a request to help out in the planning from the man about a week ago, and since there was a severe lacking in officers willing to work public affairs, Reddy had been running a media center on his small cruiser. In fact, George was surprised the man was aboard today, with the official announcement that an attack would take place, he expected that _Walker_ would be swamped with reporters and journalists wanting to get the first scoop on what was about to take place.

"I would ask, if you would permit Patrick, that with the announcement, wouldn't you be busy aboard the _Walker_?" he didn't mean it as a dismissal, but Reddy almost took it that way.

"Ah coods gang back if yoo'd loch," he began, his fast Scottish speech almost impossible for Horrocks to understand. "but I've got naethin' tae gie tae th' press. An' th' whole reason ah cam ower was tae ask if ye hud onie plan."

George thought for several moments on a reply as they entered the arboretum, he asked that a second meal be brought and they sat in the center of the room at a small wooden table. He finally sighed and responded. "Pat," he began, feeling resigned. "I've got Starfleet breathing down my neck, thirty Vulcan commanders trying to be my executive officer, and a system of thirteen million plus Borg. While I've been trying to confirm if I can actually make a plan, alongside those coordinated strikes I've planned, I have not once thought of a plan. And even if I had, I'm quite the shoddy business man and would lose more than I gain."

Pat laughed. "Comeon, ah havenea knoon ye tha' lang, but ah neverae seen ye quite soo resigned. Noaw, jist go'n an' teel meh what's ye main problem." he bit from a biscuit he had been given.

The man dug into his strange plate of strange fluffy bread and gravy—he later explained that it was a dish from Southeast America called biscuits and gravy—as George outlined his problems and limitations. "The biggest problem is ships, out there right now, available to me, is somewhere in the range of two hundred ships that are currently equipped for combat. My biggest dilema, is that one hundred and twenty are light cruisers and escorts." the Scotsman stopped for a moment and offered and questioning glance. "It's not that there is anything wrong with a _Miranda_ or _Centaur-_ class," he leaned in and lowered his voice, "but they just aren't built to handle the Borg. Not even with modern phasers, or the likes, would they be able to stand a fighting chance against the number of Borg we have to deal with. Such, I have seventy to eighty ships that will be useful in an all out battle. Now I could task large groups of five or so cruisers, but even if I do, they will never stand against a single cube alone. It leaves me with something a lot of men would consider dispensable, but I'm not that man Pat."

Pat, who had finished his meal sat back. "Dae ye hae a room wi' a display waur ah can see a map ay th' system?"

George nodded and took him off towards the room. George had always been told by his first CO, 'In our unit there is bound to be one man who knows how to do the job, or one man who had a spiffing idea of how to do it, always find that man and humor him.' he did that now as he pulled up the intelligence view they had of the Borg starships in the Vega System.

"You see Pat, they've got a fine perimeter set up, and that's what our main problem." George placed his hands on the edge of the table and leaned forward. "It's just that we can't launch an all out strike on their main collective without any number of ships escaping and making collectives all over Federation space. We simply can't carry out such an attack in a straightforward way, I'd love to go right in, knowing that the Borg would think they could outgun us, but the second the tides turned, which would happen with good tactics, they'd send numerous ships to the surrounding systems and we'd be more buggered than we are now. I'm open to any suggestion old boy."

Pat studied the holographic display for several moments. George could see his eyes trace along the path of Borg ships moving in circular paths around the edge of the system, focusing on the centers where dozens of cubes were sitting in around unknown structures they were constructing. His violently green eyes slowly swept the display, only once or twice was their movement spastic. He finally let up.

"Ye cannae gang at thes loch it's naethin'. Ye need a weel planned assault, an' ye need it weel executed." he looked at George, his eyes piercing. "Ye need strategy in thes case haur, an' ah hae an idea ay hoo we coods gang abit it."

So obviously this fine piece of work is set from Horrocks' perspective aboard his _Excelsior_ -class cruiser and how he sees Patrick Reddy. I do not intend to pursue Reddy's dialect, but I most likely will give you some more time looking through the eyes of George Horrocks. Anyway, this episode tells the magnificent tale of the brilliant, and daring, retaking of the Vega System!


	47. Episode 4: Part 2

**Part 2 (March 16, 2409, 0825 hours. [Stardate 86203.7])**

The tent was crowded with some four hundred officers. From the full Captain and their First Officer, a Commander, to simple Lieutenants, and their seconds, in command of the smallest frigates and escorts. It was a late hour on the surface of Una II, and the darkness was infecting the 'auditorium' as they waited for the arrival of their speaker: Commodore George Horrocks.

Unfortunately, the tent was a little small for the four hundred, and seats had been by arrival, and thankfully Lieutenant Commander Samantha O'Connell and her First Officer, Lieutenant Suzanne Mckahan, had arrived in time to grab to seats near the back row. Sam would have been fine with standing, but Suzanne had taken a disruptor blast to her knee back in January and the repaired tissue still grew sore when put under strain for a long time.

The room was filled with such noise, as captains gossiped and old friends recounted their days in the Academy, that it prevented the two officers from speaking with each other. Instead, Suzanne studied several officer reports on the readiness of their small frigate, the USS _Chillingsworth_ , while Sam studied the room and the odd segregation that was forming in it. Near the front was where the Vulcan's, quiet and casting condescending glares about the room, Andorians were well spread but did indeed tend to stay in groups of two or three. There were not many Tellarites in the room but the three that Sam had spotted were all together here on the back row, and finally there were four Benzites in the room, one full captain at the rear of the room and a number about the room.

While there were indeed other races in the room, Saurians, Caitians, Bolians, the Pakled, a Bajoran, Trill, Rigelians, oddly enough a Klingon, and the most intriguing was a Reman who crouched in the shadows. Thankfully there seemed to be no disagreements, except that eighty percent of the Vulcans in the room were refusing to speak with anyone, and despite the combined body heat of all present, moods were good.

Sam, was fine as well. Ever since they saved the crew of the SS _Azure_ , _Chillingsworth_ had been waiting in the Una System with the rest of the fleet. While boring, Sam had found it preferable to the peril that she had seen since she graduated from the Academy, less than three months ago. Since the first week of February, duties aboard her ship had been light, which had given her Engineers time to improve systems and repair damage for the coming operation. Over the last week the ship had been quiet, except for the random battle drill that Sam decided to do, and most of the crew had been relieved to think that they were out of any water around. Sam, after taking part in hit-and-run operations in the middle week of February, could now sympathize with Patrick Reddy, a friend of hers at the Academy, on how tiring his life must be. She had spent a week on the edge of the Vega System, raiding patrols and lone cubes, she had heard news of how the _Walker_ had engaged a Undine warship over the monastery of P'Jem, and recently while making a special delivery to Earth Spacedock (ESD) she had engaged a group of Nausicaan pirates. She pitied Reddy, last time they had met she had to resist letting her friendly southern roots take over and hug him. She also pitied the crew of the _Walker_ , which had lost so many crew in such a short time, and mainly her close friends aboard it.

Finally, the crescendo of conversation was cut by one large voice. "THANK YOU GENTLEMEN!" it seemed a very proper way to call the room to their feet, yet it was effective in bringing the officers to their feet.

Walking quickly down the isle came the man in charge of the whole deal, top dog as Sam would say, Commodore George Horrocks, Commanding Officer of the Una Fleet. "Thank you ladies and gentlemen, thank you." he said as a group near the front started up the applause. He stood on the stage and finally was seen by the majority of Starfleet ship captains. He was tall and lanky with a head of light blonde hair that seemed disturbed by the slightest breeze, he was dressed informally for the occasion but the brown fatigues he wore, with light pants that were folded up under so that they only dropped to his mid-shin, seemed to make him all the more impressive.

Behind the Commodore was a digital screen at which he would point at with a long wooden stick. He held the stick like he would a flag in his right and, and propped the other against his hip. "Gentlemen, and ladies of course, this is story that you will tell your grandchildren; and mightily bored they'll be." laughter rose from all but the Vulcans. "The plan is called Operation Requiem, a daring and horrible plan that only men as insane as us would attempt. Now this is us in the Una System, here, and of course our target, the Vega System, here." He tapped the screen with the tip of his pointer and the screen focused on it, he continued. "Tomorrow, our two hundred thirty-one ships from the small _NX_ -class to our state-of-the-art _Sovereign_ -class will participate in the greatest action in the twenty-fifth century, perhaps in the entire history of the Beta Quadrant." he looked at the screen and waved his pointer over the system. "Now this is where intelligence is telling us the enemy ships are, we are to attack tomorrow in three groups. Group one, led by the fine Pakled, Commander Aaki Keln, will warp into the system at 0730 tomorrow morning, and set up two ships, specially equipped with powerful sensors, and set up a Mission Control as it would seem. Group Two, led by the experienced Captain Va'Kel Shon of the USS _Belfast_ , will be the largest group made up of our smaller ships who will be charged with cutting down the chance that any of these Probes," he pointed to tiny dots circling the system, "make it away from the system to do any damage to surrounding Federation space. That leaves Group Three, led by me and Captain Jay Yim of the USS Khitomer, our group will be in the center of the system, engaging the bulk of the Borg Group until the outer regions are clear, then elements of Second Group will assist us in finishing off the rest of their ships." He turned back to the audience and held the pointer with both hands, down low and perpendicular to his body. "Now, I'm not saying this is going to be easy, it will require precise timing and some fancy tactics, but if we focus on the job and play our cards right, we'll give these Borg a proper one-two and be secured from red alert in time for tea."

"Now the most important fact is that we keep the Borg from leaving the system, which is why I have assigned two mine-laying _Cheyenne_ -class ships to Commander Keln's group, as well as two of our powerful and high-speed _Akira-_ class ships to Captain Shon's group. It is imperative that we, the Third Group, distract the main Borg fleet from what is happening on the outer regions until they are cleared of Borg ships. The fact is that the second a ship escapes from the system we could have a whole other problem when it assimilates somewhere else, such as Risa or Earth. " Heads nodded in agreement. "Kick off will be at 0735 tomorrow morning, so you will have plenty of time to brief your crews." a smile grew back on his face. "I like to think of this as an old war movie back on Earth. The Borg, naturally, are the bad guys who have made a daring attempt and succeeded in taking something valuable to our people. And we, brave men of Starfleet, are the cavalry, on the way to the rescue!"

There was considerable amount of cheering, except from the Vulcans, and several along the isle stood to shake the Britisher's hand as he departed from the stage. As he left, another man, a lowly Lieutenant, took the stage and tried to call everyone. The applause and cheers as Horrocks left drowned him out. Eventually the loud voice bellowed again.

"THANK YOU GENTLEMEN!" Sam looked to see that the Reman wore the ranks of the Chief and he had stepped from the shadows to bellow the order.

"Thank you, whoever that was." the Lieutenant, another Britisher, said and looked at the PADD he carried. "Captains please listen closely as I assign you to the different officers who have selected you." For several minutes more he called the names of ships and their captains, after thirty minutes all that remained was the hundred and twenty captains of Group Two.

The lieutenant nodded to Captain Shon and departed, yeilding the stage to the Andorian. The Andorian stood on the stage and looked at the more sparse group of captain now. "Can we fill on in?" Officers stood and made their way to the front section, abandoned for all but a handful of Vulcans. "Thank you." He had deep hearty voice, much like a Midwesterner, Sam noticed, he looked out among the captains.

"I want you all to know that I have complete faith in your ships' abilities to perform in this operation. I have also reviewed all of your files and made exact choices of who will command each battle group of five to seven ships." He looked at his old style clipboard and studied it. "Now, if I am correct, there are a hundred and twenty-six commanding officers in here. Which means that we have twenty-five battle groups. Now, I've already passed it with Commodore Horrocks, you will be designated in groups of five with an alphabetical letter following." He began handing out assignments, having a lieutenant, commanding a _NX_ -class, hand the assignment sheets too each commanding officer. It was some time before he finished.

"Now, did I miss anyone?" he asked the gathered captain. A hand came up rather quickly. "Name, rank, then ship please."

"Patrick Reddy, Lieutenant Commander, USS _Walker_ , sir." came the thick Scottish accent.

"Ah, Reddy, eh?" Shon checked his page. "Oh yes, your ship will command Group 5-Epsilon. That's the USS _Boise_ , USS _Valor_ , the _Terev_ , the _Montgomery_ , and the _Wellesly_. You are also in command Mister Reddy."

Before the eye popping shock on Reddy's face became obvious, Shon dimissed the group and insisted that all officers disperse and formulate strategies with their own groups before beaming back to their ships. Shon had been trying to make a quick escape around the back of the stage, Sam saw Pat in a hot pursuit, legs a blur. She stifled a giggle and went with Suzanne to be briefed by a very small Trill Commander who was captain aboard her _Rapier_ -class escort.

Patrick Reddy managed to catch Captain Shon before he made his way around the expansive tent to the other senior officers of this operation. Came around the edge of the tent and saw the powerful frame of the officer with his back too him.

"Captain Shon!" he called and jogged up to the Andorian.

Shon turned. "Yes Commander?" he said silently.

Reddy felt his words catch in his throat now that he stood in the presence of the shorter man. He finally found his voice. "Sir, I respect your decision making absolutely, but the Terev and _Valor_ are both commanded by full captains—"

"Both of which had no business being task force commanders." Shon cut in. "You may not have heard me earlier, I have carefully read and evaluated the abilities of each officer who I selected for command. And I selected you."

Reddy was confused. "But why sir? I'm not even considered a fully commissioned officer yet sir." It was customary for officers of a class to go through their training cruise then be 'fully' commissioned shortly after their return—unfortunately the class of 2409 had not had the time.

Shon stepped closer and lowered his voice. "Mister Reddy, of the captains of Group 5-Epsilon, you were the only one with recognizable command ability."

"But Captain Hawes sir?"

"No, Hawes is a wonderful man, knows his stuff like the back of his hand, knows how to fight his ship. But not his group." Reddy didn't speak, but kept an eyebrow cocked in question. "He freezes when under placed in a position to command a group more than just his crew." He checked his time. "Pardon me Commander." And swiftly left.

Reddy stood for several moments, astonished at a full Captain's, an Andorian nonetheless, lack of evidence to back up why he had placed a Scotsman, not yet fully commissioned, in charge of a task group. Reddy turned and went to find his group.


	48. Episode 4: Part 3

**So once again it took me awhile, but I got it out and feel okay about this Part.**

 **Part 3 (March 16, 2409, 0930 hours)**

Reddy quickly learned why Shon had been so confident in his ability to command the group. Group 5-Epsilon had exited the tent and were sitting around a pile of crates when Reddy found them. He stopped as he reached them and checked his PADD, looking and matching the faces and the names of the officers. Commanding the USS _Valor_ was a human by Stefan Marz, a tall African was accompanied by a Tellarite officer. _Terev_ was commanded by Captain Hawes, a shorter man who stood beside the commander of the _Wellesley_ , a Lieutenant Commander Bajoran. Finally there was the commander of the _Boise_ and the _Montgomery_. Both were Lieutenants and were younger than Reddy. The only men who were older than Reddy were Marz and Hawes.

Reddy lowered the PADD and looked about the group. His eyes fell on Hawes, the most senior of the group. "Captain, I want you to know that I fully support Captain Shon's decision, however you are my superior and I will yield command of this group to you willingly."

"No, Commander. Shon gave you command for a reason, I accept that." Apparently either Shon had already spoken with Hawes, or Hawes new his abilities quite well.

Reddy felt better now. "Well then gentlemen, not much I can say other than that if you have any input, please feel free to give it." He looked down at his PADD. "Now they didn't give the class of ships you command so I would ask that you share that with the group now."

Hawes cleared his throat. "My ship is an _Ushaan_ -class escort, thirty-two crew, three weapons mounted, two phasers fixed to fire at a ninety degree arc forward, one turret mounted aft. One torpedo tube.

Reddy nodded and looked at the Bajoran, Lt. Cmdr. Eefu Webi, the Bajoran straightened from where she had rested on a box. "USS _Wellesley_ , _Defiant_ -class escort, two dual forward mounted light cannons, two aft cannons. Torpedo tubes fore and aft."

Reddy wasn't particularly surprised at Webi's reports, she had sounded proud, and many Escort captains were. Lieutenant Alan Dunn was next. "USS _Montgomery_ , NX-class escort, fifty-two crew, four phaser arrays and three torpedo tubes."

Reddy's eyes were drawn away to a short Bajoran girl, probably in her early teens, standing to the side and behind Alan Dunn. She was peeking shyly at the group from behind the stocky lieutenant.

"Who's the little lady?" Webi asked.

Dunn smiled and stepped to where the girl was in front of him. "A little stoaway I had the misfortune of picking up last time I was ferrying personnel to Deep Space 9." He looked down at the child. "Go on gal, introduce yourself."

The girl didn't exactly want to introduce herself to this group of older beings, but she was on the spot and she found the courage. "Acting-Ensign Boff, reporting as ordered." She said shyly.

Marz laughed at her attempt to be stern and formal. "Well I think she be an officer yet."

"Indeed, she already knows quite a bit about the ship. She's only fifteen now, sadly they don't allow her Warrant training until she's sixteen. Then she has to be eighteen to wear a commission."

For several minutes the young Leeta Boff was the center of attention, by the time they finished the whole briefing it had almost been a whole hour. Reddy had a crew to brief, and in spite of his questions he wanted to pose to officers of his group, he quickly beamed to the ship from the transporter pad that the engineers had set up in a staging area not far from the tent.

Once aboard he called the senior officers to the briefing room and gave them a full run down of the situation. He was alone in the matter but it was easy to recall the general details, mainly because he had thought up the basis for the operation. His FCO was genuinely pleased to hear that she would be head fire director for Group 5-Epsilon, as was most of the crew to finally be taking an action.

When the meeting broke, Reddy managed to keep Zarva and Triss in the room. They sat and looked at him from across the table.

Reddy sat back and sighed. "Zarva, what do you think?" he asked.

Zarva's mature eyes tried to avoid his. "I think we can do it, as long as we aren't caught off guard." she finally met his. "She'll hold up, as long as we don't lose shield power, and don't get shot up like on the First." Reddy had never actually experienced the terrible shock that had come with what happened on the First. He had looked back through recordings and had seen the terrible havoc the assault had wreaked on the raw recruits in the engine room. He knew as well as anyone that Zarva, who had actually been listed as Assistant Engineering Officer, would never want to see, or experience that again.

Reddy saw Triss reach as hand over and place it on Zarva's shoulder, a poor attempt to comfort her. "What can we do to stop that?"

Zarva thought for several moments, her eyes went blank as she stared at the center of the table. She finally looked up. "For one I'd say take on a defensive stance, but we'd never be able to do that with what we have to do." Reddy wasn't quite sure he understood. "You see, older ships use to route weapons power through their own conduits, meaning that phasers tended to short out when too much strain was placed on them, now we run them through the engines because the conduits are stronger. The only problem is that you either put a large amount of power into the engines, or into the weapons, there's not much of an alternative."

Reddy should have known that much about his ship, even though he had dropped power flow basics when he couldn't understand the math. He pressed his finger tips together and thought a moment. "What if you connected batteries to the weapons?"

"Usually I'd advise against that," Zarva suddenly seemed to have a thought. "but I may be able to connect batteries to the main conduits flowing to the maneuvering thrusters, which is where the phasers get their power. I think I may be able to boost overall efficiency some twenty-percent."

"Good, do it." Zarva jumped from her chair and all but sprinted from the room, filled with excitement.

"She surprises me everyday." Triss said, looking over her shoulder out the door.

"Sarah, I want you to get with T'Kira and assign security personnel to your DC crew, they can at least do some heavy lifting and hopefully won't have to worry about us being boarded." Sarah nodded, she asked if there was anything else. "Yes, I'd like you to install a larger tactical screen into my command chair. Maybe one that folds up like the computers we had at the Academy, it would help if I could write and send messages throughout the ship without using the tactical viewer."

"I'll see what I can do." Sarah replied.

Reddy stood and stretched, his back was sore from his sitting posture for most of the day. "Well I must say that I feel jolly about this, even if I'm commanding a task group." he walked around the table and stood beside the Englishwoman.

"I must say that I feel jolly about you commanding it, you've done quite well at taking hold of a situation so far, and it's much better than having a damned Vulcan in charge." It wasn't common of Sarah to swear, in all the years Reddy had known her at the academy she had only swore once or twice, but it was not the cuss that vexed Reddy.

Reddy tried not to sound too terse, he failed. "Mister Triss, I wouldn't care if you called a Vulcan a green-blooded hobgoblin, yet I would care if you said such in uniform behind a Vulcan's back." Reddy caught himself and didn't go on.

Sarah was taken aback. "Well excuse me, Mister, I wasn't aware such insults offended you." She talked back.

Reddy plopped into a nearby chair. He pinched the skin between his brows and mentally berated himself for the outburst. "I'm sorry Sarah, it's just that I had a short talk with some ranking officers and found a few facts that I didn't like."

Sarah sat beside him. Her eyes read that she was just as sorry. "What kind of facts?"

Reddy didn't care if it was supposed to be a secret anymore. "Have you realized that there isn't a single Vulcan commanding an operational group? Or even a task group?"

Sarah leaned forward, placing he arms on he knees. "Not entirely, but I'm sure it was just commander's preference—"

"No." Reddy interrupted. "The orders came through Strategic Command, from Admiral Billingsly himself."

Sarah's eyes widened. "Billingsly gave that order?"

"Who else could, certainly not Admiral Quinn, or Horrocks for that matter." Stan Billingsly, a descendant of multiple generations of human-Vulcan crossbreeding, was basically the head of all Starfleet after the Council. He was chairman of the council and in war time would be the head of Strategic Command, which made decisions of who would lead groups and who would be where. Billingsly was notorious for his equality rule, which was the whole reason he had been elected to the position, in his time the diversity of officers in Starfleet had grown. Officers and crew like Klingons and Ferasans were testimony to his work. To hear that he had ordered that Vulcans, the people he was descendant of, were not to be given tactical commands was disturbing.

Sarah thought for a moment. "It can't have been an official thing, he must have seen Horrocks privately and planted a seed. Why Vulcans?"

Reddy sighed and scratched the back of his head. "They analyze things to closely, people were concerned that they wouldn't commit or wouldn't be able to think illogically enough to defeat the Borg." Sarah nodded but didn't say anything. "Sometimes I wonder what the Federation is becoming," Reddy disclosed. "first we don't give the Andorian a fleet, then we don't give the Vulcan's more captains, next thing you know we'll ban Klingons from the Academy. Start to segregate crews again. It will be just like the old days, back in the time of Garth of Izar, when everyone had their own ships, and the Vulcans threatened to leave the Federation every time we humans decided to go to war with the Klingons."

Sarah stood and collected her notepad and started for the door. When she stood halfway between the hall and the room she turned. "Don't let politics disturb you, tomorrow the shape of your ears isn't going to matter when we are in the midst of a Borg fleet. I think history will repeat itself, we'll be brought closer together by a victory, and maybe we'll just get along long enough to fix a few problems." she departed and Reddy sat back and closed his eyes.

Reddy spent the rest of the day looking over the specifications of his small task group. He had two _Centaur-_ class cruisers, an _Ushaan-_ , _NX-_ , and a _Defiant-_ class as well as his own _Miranda_. He weighed his options. A Cruiser was heavier, slower, yet had an advantage: armor and projectiles. Yes his ship had six phasers arrays and could probably out shoot a _Ushaan_ , his were more widely dispersed, built to swivel and defend the whole ship rather than just focus forward. It was almost 1800 hours when he finally had a plan; it was late and he had designated the next twelve hours for an all hands rest, watches would be reduced to a bare minimum and those still on site would be volunteers. He found T'Kira waiting in his quarters, going through his stack of police and war novels. He quickly changed to his night clothes and lay down with her.

The Vulcan always took her hair down and tucked it under her pillow so Reddy didn't suck it in and choke in the middle of the night, yet she placed it just right that he could rest his head on some of it and enjoy the sweet shampoo she used. It made him think of a fresh spring day, as Samantha O'Connell described it, in the Southeast. He lay there and took several deep breaths, hands wrapped around T'Kira's abdomen, and drifted off into the image of clear blue skies and dry air in a Alabama morning in spring.

 **If you made it past the first few paragraphs you'll see why I feel okay. I feel that I didn't do so well with the conversation between the captains of Group 5-Epsilon, but feel much better about Reddy's talk with Sarah Triss and the ending picture. Since it is currently hotter than both Vulcan and it's counterpart, Hell, combined in Alabama, I guess I was bolstering my confidence that Autumn will come and I can stand outside and breath in something other than humidity and heat. I'm getting a nostalgia feeling just typing this, for real. *Shivers***

 **On the case of little Acting-Ensign Leeta Boff, I thought I might throw her in there with Lieutenant Alan Dunn so that we see that there is a Starfleet version of the Terran Admiral. I intend to expand her involvement in the story later when we get to the Romulan War and eventually her work with Captain Sumner and the Terran Campaign.**

 **Once again I thank ye for reading and hope to hear your feedback. Tallyho!**


	49. Episode 4: Part 4

**The following is a selection of short pros concerning the calm before the storm. Some is romantic and other is people looking back on life. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.**

 **Part 4 (1800 hours)**

Chief Sergeant Thaddeus Kindrick, Security Chief aboard the USS _Chillingsworth_ , sat before an old-style typewriter he had replicated as an experiment. The heavy machine had been too loud for the other sergeants in his barracks so Lieutenant "Jan" Devvers had offered for him to place the machine in her quarters. Since their watches were slightly staggered, Thaddeus had around thirty minutes each evening to type before the Orion woman returned to her quarters.

The words came slowly tonight, but slowly they became words that Thaddeus enjoyed. His imagination took flight as he remembered all the old drama shows of his youth, ones over three hundred years old where when the calm before the storm was filled with regrets and compilations of lovers confessing their feelings and finally being 'together'. Kindrick soon liked the words and was typing at full speed. By the time Jan had arrived he was at full speed and had typed four whole pages.

Jan looked tired, she and Goldsby had been working together to prep the crew and ship for the assault tomorrow and she was an hour behind the shipwide hands rest. Jan leaned down and hugged Thaddeus from behind, mumbling tiredly in his ear. Thaddeus turned his head and kissed her best he could and told her he'd be along shortly. By the time he turned off the lamp over his typewriter and climbed into bed beside the slim Orion she was snoring softly. Even as he slipped in beside her and tried to calm his brain, Thaddeus couldn't help but think of the day tomorrow and the feeling that were being confessed tonight. Finally, after some hours of contemplation, Thaddeus' eyes grew heavy and he slipped off into a warm and sleepy embrace.

Sam stared blankly at the ceiling, she felt a small tickled as Suzanne's leg twitched and rubbed against hers. She moved her eyes and looked at the sleeping woman, slightly taller than her Captain. She looked at her fine frame with nice smooth curves and long slender legs. She focused on the breathing, one that was silent and unthinkably slow. She felt Suzanne clench then relax her hand, felt her face twitch against the skin of Sam's breast, on which it rested. She was dreaming, a good sign. Even better came several sweet and funny noises, saying that the woman was dreaming something sweet, and Sam loved it when she dreamed. They hadn't done anything other than cuddle tonight, but Sam wished they had.

Sam had been thinking of someone else lately, someone not on board her ship. She thought back to the days when she and the tall Scotsman had studied together for Command School, she had been much younger when she had met the man four years ago, and she had agreed to work with him simply because she had a massive crush on him. On her second year he had failed to make it into Command School, and her application had been simply denied, and that had seemed to crush all relations between her and the Scot. Now she regretted the distance between them and wished it would be closed, even if it was just for a night.

 **USS** ** _Walker_**

"Are you positive you don't need a rest? I have volunteered for these watches. You also forget that I am a Vulcan, I need less sleep than other illogical lifeforms." Head Nurse Lisseth, a very petite Vulcan woman, asked. It was the same question framed differently for the tenth time. Zoko O'Konnell had to admit that the Vulcan was a heck of a nurse, but acted damned annoyingly mother-like at times.

Zoko was in the depressant cabinet reading the labels on a number of sleeping pills. She grabbed the most powerful one and pocketed it before the Vulcan came into view. "I guess you're right, Lisa, I'll go and get some rest."

The damned Vulcan's eyes spotted the bulge in Zoko's pocket and made her pull it out and explain. Zoko tossed the bottle from hand to hand. "Ensign Zarva has been having trouble sleeping, since we don't happen to have anything concerning Bolian consumption, I thought I might see if she has any reference, I'll return it before action tomorrow."

The Vulcan seemed to hesitate, then she turned away and went to managing the few minor cases that of anxiety that were spread through Sickbay. Zoko went through the door and waited for it to hiss shut behind her, Zarva's quarters were aft, near the steady hum of the engine room, to Zoko's right. The Benzite turned left and went to her quarters forward of the Science Offices, once there she turned off all lights and stripped. For several minutes she sat naked on her bed, staring at the bottle of pills she held in her hand. Finally she decided to take one and try to make it through tomorrow.

Zarva had been kicked from the Engine Room, quite literally. For the past day she had been mooning of every piece of equipment, wanting it to function ten percent better than designed, and had made a massive annoyance of herself. Sarah had realized that she had no intention of sleeping this evening and had instigated a type of mutiny. It had worked and Zarva had given in to the dogwatch crew and returned to her quarters.

Strangely enough, Zarva and Triss lived in the same room. Originally designed as a storeroom, they were lucky to have even a small window, and enough room to maneuver. With the death of the Operations Officer on the First, Triss had decided to stay aboard and take over Operations, mainly because she was the only one aboard with the training and courage to take the spot, and that had quickly become synonymous with helping Zarva live her everyday life. The Bolian had been struck hard by the reality that she was Chief Engineer, and she was a control freak. The woman was just over thirty, and had spent most of her life in the Utopia Shipyards, where she had been born. She wanted every gear to run smoothly, each conduit to hum like it was straight from the factory, and the horrible actions that _Walker_ had seen had torn holes in Zarva's sanity. Which was why at this hour, 2000 hours, Zarva sat in her swivel chair behind her desk and stared at the door and the clock she had mounted above it, her fingers drumming nervously against her thighs.

Sarah was half covered in her blankets as she watched the Bolian, who was oblivious to her, and finally sighed and stood up. She walked over and placed her hands on Zarva's shoulders. "If you don't go to sleep, I'll get a phaser and make you."

Zarva was still in her regular duty uniform, she didn't seem to care about the threat. "It might actually work, for once."

Sarah seemed concerned that Zarva would neglect sleep as such. She turned the chair around and placed her hands on her hips. "Get in bed, now, or I'll find some way to make you sleep."

Reluctantly the Bolian stood and began to take off her jacket. When she tossed it aside Sarah came closer and ran her hands up the woman's arms. For one as old and thirty-two, she seemed completely ignorant of anything romantic, she only looked in surprise at the Englishwoman as she pulled their bodies closely together.

"You don't have to tear yourself up over the engines Zarva, I've come to know that that kind of stress kills people." Sarah said soothingly.

Zarva raised an eyebrow. "Come to know?"

Sarah felt a smile split her face. "My mother became a masseuse when my uncle died, she found that a little bit of stress relief can extend a yard hand's life by several years, I have to say I learned a few techniques." Sarah herself had spent some time in a shipyard.

Zarva was leaning away, Sarah's hands trailed up to her shoulders and plucked at the cloth of the tank top the Bolian was wearing, the blue skin under was appealing. Zarva took Sarah's hands and held them back. "I'm not sure where to go from here, so for now I'll go by the regulations. I'm sorry, but tomorrow there will be a great battle, and I don't want something like this weighing on my mind."

Sarah sighed and nodded, she wrapped her arms temporarily around the Bolian in a tight embrace, when she drew back she looked her in the eye. "You will get some rest though?"

Zarva nodded and went behind the small privacy curtain she had and changed. By the time Sarah was settled and beginning to drift into sleep she saw the Bolian crawl into her bed. She faded off into the black after that.

 **USS** ** _Montgomery_**

Lieutenant Alan Dunn still liked the smell of an old-style newspaper, it made him feel nostalgic and wish to live some five hundred years before his time. It was the least of his wishes, he was an explorer, and the old design of his _NX_ -class, he sometimes found himself wanting to call it the _Enterprise-_ class, helped fuel his need to see a world beyond. He had heard about a ship being recently commissioned, an older _Nova-_ class, it's crew made up of survivors from the Vega IX Colony, he envied the captain of that rig. The man, whoever he may be, was bound for the Outreach, if that project ever made it past the staging area, and Alan hoped that he could put in a good requisition to see the new worlds. Maybe if he was just a security ship it would be fun, or maybe even running cargo and supply runs like he had been to Deep Space 9, he was hungry for new reaches, and his crew was too.

His crew, Alan couldn't help but admire the diverse selection of species aboard, Cardassians, two Jem'Hadar believe it or not, a number of species he couldn't remember the name of, and of course a scattering of Federation officers. Many were honorary enlisted, but that didn't matter, they had food, clothes, and most of all, a fine middle-aged lieutenant commanding this fine antique.

Alan folded his newspaper, he had managed to find a planet in the Alpha Quadrant that still published news in them, and walked to the adjoining room. In there he saw that his love for reading about past days had bled to a young and cute Bajoran girl, Leeta lay in her bed with the book held above her. Alan spotted that the book had the familiar shape of a 1920s four-stacker destroyer. He had too many books he couldn't remember the series, but he tapped it and it was lowered to show Leeta's deep red hair and smiling young face.

"Sleep time Ensign."

Leeta giggled and settled into her covers, for one of her age she still preferred that Alan tuck her in. Alan took the book and turned out the light, he kissed her forehead and left the room. He himself soon climbed into his bed, for a second he stroked the pillow beside him and tried to remember who was missing from his life. _Vulcan's work some magic_. He thought and settled. Yet despite him missing something, what he dreaded more was losing the little prospect of the future on the sofa in the adjacent room. He hoped tomorrow brought a brief battle, and one that was merciful to the youth that was abroad on the ships about the Una Fleet.

 **Una Fleet**

In these seemingly brief hours before the holocaust, these few men and women of the Una Fleet prepared in what few ways they could. Some tried to intoxicate themselves just enough it wouldn't hurt them on the morrow. Others fasted and prayed, religious rituals and superstitious acts meant to protect them or spare them some purgatory if death would meet them the next day.

 **Probably the best way to read this final selection is to listen to A Bridge Too Far Soundtrack's Before the Holocaust, or just watch the movie and wait for the scene before they load the transports. Anyway, I do not believe I've mentioned it, but yes Leeta Boff is in this, and this is only for a short time, for now the best way to imagine her is as Emma Watson. I made that selection mainly because the Bajoran on the cover of STO's Season 10 looks strikingly similar.**

 **And I do hope everyone has a great Fourth of July.**


	50. Episode 4: Part 5

**Someone somewhere has been waiting for this part, I'm dearly sorry if it is a let down. (Like Into Darkness and The Hobbit, and Star Wars VII. And the Star Wars Prequels. And a whole ton of Star Wars things, which is why I like Star Trek so much, it carries a very nice message that there is hope for our future rather than evil will always return and there will always be three people who are more important than everyone else. Don't get me wrong, I like the original Star Wars, but my love was the EU, like Rogue Squadron and I was angry to hear that Wedge Antilles wasn't going to return. I love that actor, both as Wedge and Sir Edward Pellew in Horatio Hornblower.)**

 **Sorry I went off on a tangent there, I'll let you enjoy my failure to be a good writer. Or not enjoy it, whichever.**

 **Part 5 (March 17, 2409. 0720 hours)**

Reddy had decided to wear his best uniform, awaking at o-six-hundred he had tended to it and seen that it was, in the words a man like Horrocks, spiffing. From then he took his usual morning run and returned for a quick shower and shave, then off for a bite in the mess hall. It had been crowded, crewmen sharing laughter as he had issued extra rations, and higher quality rations, throughout the ship. As he had sat at the one open seat at a bar near the kitchen he had been crowded with well-wishers and jolly faces from the whole crew—with the exception of the Vulcans. He had responded in kind and had even seen it necessary to offer a toast, of tea or anything non-alcoholic of course, to the mess and to the _Walker_ herself. By the time he disengaged he made his way to Tactical, which was a small room built like CIC (Combat Information Center) where Ensign Rósinberg Hyltirisson, the Icelandic FCO, would be fire director for the whole task group. She would be linked in to the bridges of the escorts and the independent CIC's on cruisers, to give orders on times to fire. For this mission it was imperative that the sensors operated correctly, and that the response of other ships be immediate in critical situation. He stayed only for a short time to explain to her the strategy he had set up last night, and asked that she relay it to the other vessels in the Group.

Other ships. That seemed to be the thing that weighed on Reddy's mind the most, he was afraid of how the mission would turn out, if one ship was destroyed it would be on his mind, and record, more than anyone else. Not that Reddy really cared but it would matter when someone was asking whether or not Reddy should be an admiral someday. Either way he intended to do his duty, that was to kill the Borg.

At precisely o-seven-fifteen hours Reddy stepped onto the bridge, Lieutenant Commander pins shined to a gleam and uniform spotless. His dress shoes were mirrors and not one wrinkle or piece of lint graced his white shouldered uniform. His shoulders were squared and he showed every bit of pride he felt for his crew and his ship.

Elisa was on the bridge, studying a thriller on her PADD. She stood when Reddy stepped from the lift, her own uniform was spotless. Reddy ignored his chair and stepped to the area in front of the viewscreen. "T'Vrell, put me on shipwide."

There was a loud pinging hum that called attention to announcements. "Attention all hands, this is the captain speaking. In less fifteen minutes you will be engaged in an action that will decide much for the next years. If we are too fail today and another system falls subject to what Vega has, the result could be much worse." Reddy paused and breathed in. "We've been through a lot, Klingons, Borg, the Undine, and now the Borg again. Stay true to your post, fear not, and we will pull through. For the _Walker_!" the crew on the bridge echoed his call and he ordered the line closed.

Reddy went to his seat, Elisa sat in hers to his right. "Not the best speech I've ever heard."

Reddy chuckled and scratched his nose. "Probably the worst I've _ever_ heard." They laughed together for a moment. The clock struck 0720 and Reddy sounded battlestations.

Throughout the ship the stations began to clear away. Tactical was the first to report in, Engineering came next along with all of Sciences. In only a few seconds the ship was cleared for action. Reddy could imagine the empty kitchen and mess, dishes still scattered about as the cooks went to their combat stations.

0721 and a call came from the fleet for units to report together.

"Potter, move us away from main fleet. T'Vrell, contact Group 5-Epsilon and order them to form on us." Reddy had flipped up the tactical viewer Triss had installed and had noticed that several ships, he recognized them as other group leaders, doing the same.

"Captain, _Terev_ , _Montgomery_ , _Wellesley_ , _Boise_ , and _Valor_ now reporting en route to our location." T'Vrell informed.

"Very good T, have them check in to Tactical once in formation." Reddy switched his screen to an outside view. Far away he could see the red trails of Impulse engines and the white dots of Starfleet vessels rearranging themselves. The mass of smaller cruisers and escorts was a fine sight, but a cluttered one, what impressed Reddy was the view of the Third Group. The great three _Sovereign_ -classes escorted by half a dozen _Excelsiors_ , and another dozen _Akira-_ and _Cheyenne-_ class vessels, along with many other kinds of older ships including a few _Constitution_ - _refit-_ class ships. It was quite the sight when he zoomed in for a better image. Finally he looked at his sensor screen and saw five dots closing on his ship, he went back to the outside view and spotted each ship as they came from different directions. A minute later they were formed up on _Walker's_ stern.

"T'Vrell, message _Belfast_ and inform her 5E is formed." he looked at Elisa on his right. "Elisa, I want you to go down and help Hyltirisson with her job. Just in case, have someone rig it up as auxiliary command as well."

Elisa was silent, she stared at Reddy for several seconds, as if he had just suggested that she strip for him and she wasn't sure if he was serious or not. Finally she nodded and stood, she walked off the bridge and seemed to leave a hole where she had sat. Specialist Ted Melbourne, a man who had operated as Reddy's TACO back when they were evacuating Vega IX, manned the tactical station and reported that all ships were prepared for combat; the time was 0728.

Reddy called up Tactical, Hyltirisson answered. "Rósin, initiate the formation I suggested and have all ships prepare for Warp."

He closed the line and looked up in time to see Aaki Keln's Group One disappear into warp. "There goes Group One, almost Warp 8." Morris stated, to no one in particular.

Reddy waited. "Anything from _Belfast_?" he inquired after two minutes.

"Hyltirisson says she is receiving reports now."

Reddy's hands drummed his seat. "Tactical view."

The main viewscreen switched to a view of the system, Hyltirisson called the bridge and explained the situation quickly. "We've been assigned this sector, with _Kirk's_ group to our "north" and Group 2-Baker to our "south"."

Reddy looked over his shoulder at the sensor station. "Morris focus in and get me a target. Tactical, I want us in attack formation, _now_ , tell the leading ship's we'll be less than five seconds behind them."

Morris locked into the viewer. "I've got a group on sensors, locked in and traveling at Impulse 60, I can plot an intercept that will give us a chance to slow them down."

"Tie into the navigator."

Tex worked at his console for a short second. "Course laid in and transmitted to the group."

Reddy stood. "Transmit to the group, set countdown timer for twenty-seconds. Ultra Red Alert!"

The alarm klaxon began to sound as the countdown timer showed above every doorway and a female computer voice began to count down. Eighteen seconds later the first three ships, _Terev_ , _Montgomery_ , and _Wellesley_ , warped away, their blue trails following closely. Reddy sat and waited four more seconds.

"Warp speed Mister Potter, engage!"

Reddy felt the ship accelerate, which came with older vessels, and saw the blue tendrils grow around the viewscreen. It remained there for several seconds, Potter counting their speed, then dropped away and the ship slowed there was an enlarged view of the Vega system. Tex switched to normal view and there was the view of a small group of greenish-black ships, the leader already under attack by the leading vessels.

"Torpedoes lock on and fire!" Reddy ordered, someone had thought ahead, torpedoes began firing and tracing paths through the night. Phasers followed and soon the lead ship went alight and broke apart in a licking green flame. "Tactical, give me next target!"

 **USS** ** _Montgomery_**

Alan Dunn gripped his command chair as _Monty_ ran through the explosion of the first target. His TACO looked up. "Sir, _Walker_ signals to engage target Echo, orders are to destroy enemy's engine section."

"Lock on, all weapons fire, hold our torpedoes."

 _Monty_ skipped about the rearward section of Baker, angled so that all four phaser weapons could fill the gap between them with fire.

"Enemy shields are now reading down."

"Come about, torpedoes fire." _Monty_ was armed with chroniton torpedoes, rather than standard photon, which made little difference as the second ship exploded.

 **USS** ** _Walker_**

"Order to all ships, independently target enemies engines."

 _Walker_ took her own action, she turned and headed for the leader, who seemed to be trying to make it away on Impulse, and opened up on her. It took slightly longer to drop her, compared to all the ships together, but after thirty seconds she was racked by secondary explosions that traveled up the hull. By the time the target was gone, all but one other was left, and it was soon destroyed by the group itself.

Reddy checked his tactical viewer. "Set course for next target. Engage once ships are in formation."

Once again Reddy could see the rear of _Terev_ , _Montgomery_ , and _Wellesley_ , he could see some damage on the _Wellesley_ but it did not seem serious. "We'll engage and come out together, on your mark sensors."

Morris plugged in the coordinates and Tex responded that the group was ready, the jump would last less than four seconds at Warp Factor 1 and carry them to the edge of their sector. "Engage on my mark, in three. . .two. . .one, mark."

The stars stretched for half a second then stopped, the image of four Probes and a Sphere grew remarkably quick.

Coming along directly behind the escorts had been a good idea. _Terev_ called that she was engaging the Sphere and immediately the phasers of all six ships went alight. The group charged in, shoulder to shoulder, back line firing over the front from where they had positioned themselves. In unison the torpedoes flew, and for a second the area between them and the Sphere was filled with red or yellow projectiles. Their massed fire answered the question, were they going to be able to destroy the enemy, and it was a good answer. As the Sphere was lit by fire the ships broke and attacked surrounding Probes. _Walker_ turned port, towards the lead Probe, under _Boise_ and targeted the leader.

"Captain, enemy is preparing for Warp." Tekz announced.

"Fire phasers." a single orange beam managed to lance out and cut through the rearward section of the Probe just as it began to accelerate. The force of the beam in the critical moment shoved the Probe's aft downward, causing her to somersault at a higher velocity away from them. Reddy saw a set of phasers firing that weren't their own. The screen was partially covered as _Terev_ roared over them and used her faster design to catch and destroy the Probe.

Reddy checked his screen and found another target, it was the second ship in line, currently being attacked by the _Valor_ , Reddy ordered that they continue their parallel course and commence firing. To the Probe they didn't last long, their shields had been weakened by the _Valor's_ attack and _Walker_ attacking from the opposite side cut through the shields and sliced at the hull. After several seconds there was a bright flash and the ship suddenly shut down. They had cut through the hull and somehow managed to ignite most of the air inside the vessel; even a brief fire could sometimes damage a ship's batteries.

 _Walker_ swung starboard, her weapons now bearing on the final vessel under the fire of the whole fleet. It's life ended much the same, and it too was consumed in the explosions of it's plasma systems.

 **Forty-five minutes later**

 **Group Three (Commodore Horrocks' flagship, USS** ** _Pershing_** **)**

The ship shook as another Borg torpedo bounced off the shield. Sitting in his command chair Horrocks could see the Borg Cube's in their defensive orbit over Vega III, and it was a fine sight to see faster ships like the _Armitage_ diving in on fast and attack that was taking it's toll on the enemy. Already the wreckage of six cubes were making the surrounding space hard to navigate, along with the wreckage of uncountable Probes and Spheres.

"Captain! Group One has reported that the outer rings are clear and all small ship resistance has been removed." Lieutenant Bin Zh'Ress, Horrocks' Andorian communications expert, spoke up.

They were in a lull in the fighting, Horrocks turned his chair and looked at the man. "Proceed as we planned Bi—Lieutenant." Horrocks preferred to call people by their names rather than rank, he sometimes forgot that it sounded condescending to Andorians. "Have Group Two assign ships to grab the planets while Shon's main force comes to help us crush this pocket."

"Aye sir." Zh'Ress went to work with the message.

Horrocks leaned forward and watched as a small force of _Akira's_ , who had been quite efficient at killing the cubes with concentration tactics, peeled out as a Cube exploded. They did have the help of a _Galaxy-_ class but had done most of the damage without torpedoes. "Now we have them."


	51. Episode 4: Part 6

**Ooooooooh, where'd this thing come from?**

 **Part 6** **(0820 hours)**

Sam watched as Groups 5E, 4E, and 2B—her own group—form up with _Walker_ , _Kirk_ , and a _Defiant_ -class at the front. Sam had ordered her Communications Officer to leave her speakers on so the whole bridge crew could hear it, she found that it had sped up the reaction time of the ship by a noticeable amount.

" _Kirk to all ships, lay in course for Vega IX and engage._ " they were already on the course, so all the Helmsman Jennifer Shay had to do was wait for the ships in front of her to warp away. Finally they followed, and Sam watched as for a brief moment _Chillingsworth_ made her best speed as of late, blue warp tendrils formed on the screen just before the frigate came to a heavy stop just beyond the moon of Vega IX.

The space on the dark side was clear, as was soon confirmed by both sensors and eyes. Reddy keyed his small tactical viewer as he was hailed by Captain Thelin.

"Nice to meet you again Commander," Thelin said curtly, Reddy had last met the Andorian high above the monastery of P'Jem, where he had been very angry. Thelin had obviously gathered from that meeting that Reddy was to the point and didn't like idle banter on the battlefield. "I'll take 2-Baker to our starboard, to the light side, I want you to go to port. That way if anyone thinks they can escape us we'll show them differently. Thelin out." the screen faded back to tactical.

Reddy looked over his shoulder at T'Vrell. "T, inform the group of our mission, formations used earlier." he looked back out the main viewer. "Miss Potter please oblige us a medium distance orbit. Three quarters Impulse."

Once again he could see the Impulse trails of the three escorts as they hovered two kilometers off the bows of the cruisers. Before long they could see the twilight zone as it slowly grew.

Morris seemed concerned when he spoke up. "Sir, I'm detecting a large build up of energy, a signature similar to the Borg."

Reddy stood and walked to the station and looked over the Floridan's shoulder. "What's this." asked.

Morris, quite the supermodel aboard the _Walker_ for his ability to pick regularities, or irregularities, in a field of static or calm, pointed to a spike on his energy panel. It was a picture of the space close around them, showing energy fields, the field was empty except for traces of _Kirk's_ group and a massive signature emanating from about three kilometers ahead of them. "It's like a Borg signature, but from all the books I've studied, none have been this massive."

Reddy had let the crew's readiness slack since they had been fighting constant for almost and hour now. He stepped back to his seat. "Focus all sensors on that location and try to get a fix. Go to Red Alert." the lights flashed again and the klaxons blared.

"Focusing sensors . . . getting a reading now." Morris was working furiously at his panel to stabilize a clear picture. He tried to boost his gain by taking away from the secondaries and synchronizing their conception of the area. Finally he received accurate feedback, and at that moment his jaw almost hit his lap.

"Morris." Reddy looked for an answer. "Morris!" he shouted.

"On screen now sir." he finally replied.

The reaction of the bridge crew was almost the same. They didn't need to be within weapons range to tell what it was, not when it had to be a kilometer or two long, and not many wanted to be within weapons range either. It was somewhat tubular, with projections from it's middle and that ominous green glow that all Borg ships had. Yet this one seemed to have a large hole in the front, a hole that glowed with plasma energy.

Reddy called up CIC. "Are you seeing this Flores?"

The reply confirmed it, but was dry and weak.

Reddy stood and stepped forward not letting his eyes leave the massive, for lack of a better term, dreadnought. "Now hear this, transmit these orders to the Group and inform _Kirk_ and Keln's group of our situation." He stepped in front of the Conn and Navigation and faced the bridge crew. "We came to this system to do a job, that includes taking risks. With _Kirk_ en route and most of the fleet engaging the last of the Borg, we won't have to hold long, only long enough to prevent this ship from making it from the system. All hands prepare for combat."

Reddy returned to his ship and was soon surprised to see Flores come through the port turbolift and take her seat to his right.

"Flores?" She smiled as he once again mispronounced her name.

"Judging by the size of that thing, I think CIC won't matter that much." She looked at him. "I'm sorry to sound negative sir, but I'd like to be on the bridge for this fight sir."

Flores had sometimes made it a point to refer to her old enemy as if he still were her equal, which he was in a way, and only on the odd occasion was she sincere about using the honorable title.

"Very well, Number One." Reddy smiled and looked back at the screen. "Lock unto enemy and engage. Regular attack formation at best possible speed."

Reddy could tell the speed of the ship by the spin of the planet below them, he now noticed a large change in their speed. Leave it to Zarva to run the engines to the breaking point and then complain that her captain had driven them too far.

The wait became intolerable as they closed into weapons range, which was judged to be around ten kilometers, until finally Potter spoke up.

"Weapons range in five seconds."

"Lock on." Reddy brought a hand up to emphasize the attack. "Fi—"

He was interrupted as a blast pushed the bow of the _Wellesley_ down and kicked her back along her course. Potter saved them by cutting up and away from the spiraling ship, the weapons didn't wait now, and neither did the Borg. _Walker_ experienced similar but had turned so was hit and dropped along her roll axis, Potter recovered it and brought them back up to firing position. They held their distance around nine kilometers, but the distance did little to lower the shock of the dreadnought's weapons.

 _Montgomery_ whipped in close, nimbly dodging the massive beams of fire and getting within yards of the great beast before she released a volley of torpedoes that struck along one of the protrusions in the middle of the ship. She rocketed out and cut Impulse to slide about and bring her forward weapons to bear again in a type of drift. Yet as she once again kicked in her thrusters, the dreadnought caught her with some kind of conical beam that must have blasted the ship five kilometers away.

 **USS** ** _Montgomery_**

"What the hell was that?" Dunn demanded.

His TACO was working at his console. "Some kind of repulsor beam sir, engineering reports all systems are good, but that beam pushed us back almost five kilometers."

"Damn." Dunn said, his mind straying to the small woman manning an escape pod meant for the Medical staff. "Get us back on course and moving in."

The same thing happened to the _Boise_ , who had circled away to aft alongside the _Valor_ , until the latter split to try and fly over the ship and regroup with _Montgomery_ , yet she resisted the push a little more and the engineer reported heavy stress on the warp nacelle. _Terev_ however showed no concern for her life, she dodged the cutting beams and ran similar to _Montgomery_ , right up against the hull and straight for the protrusions. She held her fire her selected target until it exploded and went up in a massive fire. Secondary explosions could be seen around the spike, the blow seemed to shock the Borg, so much that they didn't bother using their repulsor beam on her. _Walker_ was fairing better, her boosted phaser power gave her an advantage to range and she was doing minimal damage to another spike, which appeared to be the conduction point for their disruptor weapons. Yet suddenly a spread of torpedoes slammed against her starboard, forcing her to pull away.

 **USS** ** _Walker_**

"Damage report!" Reddy yelled at his tactical viewer. The ship came about and he could see that all shields had gone to the port side.

Eventually it whistled up from some panel on the starboard side, the picture of a human filled the screen. "Multiple plasma fires along the starboard side, not sure if any critical systems are down, we're just lucky that the shields were up."

"Very well Sergeant, get those fires out." he closed the channel and looked back out.

 _Wellesley_ had recovered and was charging into the battle like a madman. Reddy could see her now rocketing through the night. She angled her self to where it would seem that the dreadnought towered above her, and 'dove' in towards the bow of the Borg. She started firing then, her cannons raking along the ship as she slowly pulled up, torpedo launchers firing at their best rate. She may have done minimal damage, but she flew away unscathed other than the damage from the earlier shot.

 **USS** ** _Chillingsworth_**

The bridge watched silently as the large force of Probes moved in to intercept them, there had to be twenty of them, all black with green impulse trails and before long green fire lancing from their bows. The group turned then, 2B and 4E locking on and returning with more power. As the two groups met the Probes began to explode, _Chillingsworth_ flew right through the wreckage of a ship and Sam felt shudders run through the deck.

Sooroo swore and Sam looked out to see an _Ushaan_ from _Kirk's_ group explode. The fire was intense as ships circled in a tight ball trying to get their broadsides on each other. _Chillingsworth_ shook and the alert sounded, they had been struck by a torpedo on their bow and several plasma fires had broken out.

They had pursued a Probe around, as the ship straightened out they finally could angle torpedoes on it. They turned away from the explosion and locked unto another target. After only a few minutes the final Probe succumbed to the massed fire of the group. At that moment a transmission went out to both groups from _Kirk_.

" _Attention all ships, Group 5E has engaged a large Borg dreadnought, all ships are to make hast for the light side of the planet and assist_ Walker's _group at their best possible speed. End transmission._ "

"You heard the man Miss Shay, all ahead, give'er everything we've got!" Which wasn't much for a ship like _Chillingsworth_ , she was by far the last ship in the race, but she made it there alright.

The crew was shocked by the size of the dreadnought, but formed alongside another frigate they had been close behind, _Chillingsworth_ dove once again into battle.


	52. Episode 4: Part 7

**Here it is, probably the best action sequence I've ever written.**

 **Part 7** **(0900 hours)**

The battle over Vega IX was turning south, three cruisers had barely managed to lay in a course away before their engines cut out, and another two were dead in the water with a screen off ships protecting them. Another four were gone for good: _Boise_ , a ship fresh from the shipyard less than a month ago with a fine captain and experienced crew, a torpedo impacted her engine room and it was that's all she wrote. Another frigate, the common cross between a _Miranda_ and _Centaur_ -class, had lost engine power in front of the ship, she had been in a dead zone for the Borg weapons, but the dreadnought had been moving so slow no one had known it would ram straight into it. The older _Rapier_ -class escort was famed for maneuverability, yet sometimes it was hard to avoid a torpedo that tracked your movement. The final casualty was a _Constitution-refit-_ class which had tried to protect the damaged _Rapier-_ class when the repulsor beam hit it and drove it into the small escort. The resulting collision was something heart-wrenching.

Every ship was damaged in one way or another, _Kirk_ had a plasma fire burning the whole length of her secondary hull, _Valor_ was missing a warp nacelle, and _Walker_ suddenly took a hit to her aft that blew through all the decks just in front of the Security and Operations offices.

Suddenly Reddy felt the ship beneath him go dead. The casual hum or vibration of the ship stopped, something was wrong with the engines. "Engine room report." he ordered. No answer. "T'Vrell see if you can get hold of Zarva."

After several moments the chime sounded. "Zarva to bridge."

Reddy hit the corrosponding button. "Go ahead."

"Sir we've just got a few problems, I've taken the mains offline but I should have them up in a few seconds."

"Understood." he closed the line. "Potter, activate maneuvering thrusters and bring us about. I want our bow to the dreadnought, yet our thrusters firing to port."

Potter checked her panel. "That will put us into a slide sir."

"Exactly Ensign. Make it so."

All throughout the tiny fleet of ships the damage was growing worse, warp nacelles were ejected and plasma fires burned brighter than if they had been fighting the Romulans. This bold stand was becoming a last one, as more and more ships were disabled or critically damaged to a point they could not function.

On the bridge of the _Kirk_ , Captain Thelin was growing more nervous. "Damage Control, report!" he called.

"Fire's are burning brightly sir, it's taking every man I got to keep it from the control room, and we've been too heavily damaged to try and space it, bulkheads have been breached. In fact, we are lucky to simply have air down here still."

Thelin swore. "What about evacuating the section, then spacing the fire?"

"Negative, my men are working constant just too keep it from entering the engine room, to take the time to evacuate all of us would mean the fire could get to main engineering."

"Damn!" Thelin swore again.

There was a bleeping at the tactical console, his TACO checked it and broke into a smile. "Sir, Commodore Horrock's ships have reported that they are inbound, and fifteen Imperial Guard vessels are forty kilometers out."

Thelin stood, feeling a smile of pride break across his face. "Viewer, center and magnify." the viewer looked off towards the space beyond the dreadnought, and then zoomed in to spot fifteen of the beautifully sleek and powerful _Kumari_ escorts.

"Lieutenant, open hailing frequencies to those ships." he told his comms officer. "Imperials, I am relieved to see your hulls, please honor us with your help."

"Sir, Imperial ships have responded with an affirmative and will begin attacking immediately." the comms officer reported.

Thelin could think of nothing but smiling and watching the sleek, bullet-like, vessels dive into the attack.

Horrocks knew that inter-system warping was quite dangerous, especially in a system full of the wreckage of Borg ships. Yet Starfleet had trained their navigators specially to make the necessary calculations. When they had to drop out close enough to Vega IX the calculations did take longer, but Horrocks was pleased to hear his navigator give the word, and then to see briefly the blue trails of Warp Factor Four before they dropped out. The image of a massive starship grew in the ship's sensors when they dropped out less than twenty kilometers away. Horrocks swore.

"Evasive, all weapons to bear!" _Pershing_ pulled over, the other ships did as well and before long a massive amount of fire had focused on the enemy ship. Horrocks managed to get several ships to focus their fire with him, yet even with a withering amount of fire on the enemy, nothing was powerful enough to break through the massive hull of the ship.

"Captain? A small _Miranda-_ class reports that she is dead in the water and taking heavy fire. She is on the opposite side of the dreadnought." the TACO reported.

"Very well, helm, take us up and over. Engines ahead full impulse."

 _Pershing_ pitched up and flew over the top of the dreadnought at distance of less than .5 kilometers, on the other side Horrocks was shocked to see that the ship was the _Walker_ , and had bright plasma fire's both just forward of engineering, and on the starboard side.

"Get me a hailing frequency." he ordered. "USS _Walker_ , this is the _Pershing_ , do you require assistance?"

There was a moments pause, then a Scottish voice came back. "No sir, we've got it under control. But we would all be grateful if you will shield us while we get our Impulse engines back online."

"Very well, Pat, we'll cover you good old chap." He ended the transmission. "Place us between the dreadnought and _Walker_. I don't want anything to get through."

For several minutes things looked up, then plateaued and looked exactly the same, as if they were wasting time. Captain Vo'Lok of the USS _Renown_ , a man who had relieved the _Walker_ over Vega IX several months before, formed a plan to move around in front of the ship and try to focus weapons fire down it's throat. While he did that, the Andorians along with part of Thelin's 4E group formed and tried to bombard and break through to the engines of the dreadnought. But there was a problem, phasers never ran out of ammunition, torpedoes did. Smaller ships had been running out since before Horrocks' group arrived, now the larger ships, drained from their fight over Vega III, were slowly running out. Even the heavily armed _Kumari_ vessels were beginning to run out of ordinance.

 _Pershing_ was hailed, a captain asking for Horrocks. "Go ahead." he said.

"Commodore, we're running short of torpedoes, and our ships are weary, we must disengage." it was the voice of Captain Jay Yim.

"Jay, you know what we said when we agreed to join Starfleet. I don't remember either, but it meant we defended the Federation to our last dying breath, retreat if you see fit, but until then: fight." he closed the channel and swore again.

As if on cue, his TACO spoke up. "Commodore, I'm detecting a massive energy build up at what appears to be the front of the dreadnought."

Horrocks stood and watched, from eight kilometers away he could see energy sparking down the hull of the ship, working towards the front. Then he saw Renown and a number of smaller ships, including an Andorian vessel, directly in front of the dreadnought.

"Sir, it's plasma, computer believes it will be launched as a weapon."

"Order Vo'Lok out of there!" Horrocks shouted.

Too late. On the bridge of the _Renown_ , Vo'Lok had looked curiously over the shoulder of his science officer, even as she was close to abandoning her post at the readings she was getting. He remained fascinated about the readings right up until his First Officer yelled "No!" at the sight of _Wellesley_ being completely consumed by the plasma ball. At that moment he was brought from his trance, and in his final moments he showed the one thing that he, as a pure blooded Vulcan, despised.

"Shit."

Three ships were completely disintegrated by the energy ball, leaving four more to be damaged. The second and third were caught in it together, one _Cheyenne-_ class and an _Akira_ caught going seperate directions trying to get out of the blast zone. The _Cheyenne's_ rearward section was consumed by flame and recovery teams would later find the oxygen deprived bodies of the torpedo crews at their posts, working until their last breath of air, with only one person of a three hundred and fifty man crew surviving. The _Akira_ made a fatal mistake, her captain ordered a port turn, away from the energy ball, and was swept over by it. Their outer hull was breached and the entire ship caught fire, the hundred survivors were burnt, head to toe, so fatally that another sixty would die before the end of the day. The fourth ship was damaged badly, but was spared except for heavy plasma fires on the outer hull. The most terrible part was the poor _Renown_. The event was main heard by Tactical and Communications officers, they had been monitoring Horrocks as he called to the ships in the plasma ball's path, and they had heard _Renown's_ first officer crying, and the panicked cries of the bridge crew. But nothing compared to the screams when the world around them, including the metal and atmosphere, turned into a death trap. For six awful seconds the speakers were overwhelmed with pure screeches of pain, ones that weren't fueled by minor burns of a regular fire, but the heat that was frying their skin and setting the air inside their lungs alight. Most stopped when their vocal chords were burnt after about four seconds, but one continued for two seconds more, the high pitched wail of the Science Officer as she had worn the more sturdy Sierra uniform unto the bridge, her suffering was prolonged even as she could no longer speak.

Horrocks was filled with horror at the sound. "Mute that damn speaker. Science Officer, status report on that vessel."

His Science Officer was a Vulcan, he looked unemotionally at his captain. "Sir, the final crew member aboard the _Renown_ died 2.36 seconds ago."

Horrocks swore and looked back out at the dreadnought. "Assign ships as Damage Control and pull those hulks out of the way of—"

"Captain I'm getting another large energy build up."

"Belay my order, pull the fleet away regroup over Vega IX's North Pole."

"Sir, the source of this energy build up is not from the forward section, but the rear, and it is indeed a different form." The Vulcan checked his instruments. "It appears to be a Warp Drive."

Horrocks looked again, he could see it now, the great monster was moving forward. He realized that although state of the art, the new _Regent_ -class would not stand up to being rammed. "Order to all ships, lock on to enemy's rearward section and pursue. Helm lay in our course."

The Vulcan spoke up again. "Captain, the ship is commencing a long turn and accelerating to warp velocities."

Horrocks stood and watched the ship disappear into Warp. "Mister Zh'Ress, contact Captain Oscars of the _Armitage_ , have him assemble a force of fast ships, with a number of mine layers, and pursue that ship until she drops out."

Less than two minutes later a group of fifteen ships warped away after the dreadnought. Despite the fact that the dreadnought had escaped, Horrocks remembered that they had cleared the Vega System of Borg ships. He sat down and sighed.

"Alright, let's clean this mess up."

 **Commodore's Log, Stardate 86206.8.**

 **Upon clearing the system, I have ordered that all ships perform a sensor, and, in a way, visual scan. Our last news from Captain Oscars' group was that they have violated Romulan space in pursuit of the dreadnought, which appears to be heading back towards the Delta Quadrant. My men are tired, I am tired, the fleet has been at ready stations for over thirty hours, and we are awaiting the final scans of Captain Yim's ships on the far edge of the system.**

Horrocks' eyes burned with the strain of keeping them open. The only crew not affected by combat fatigue, or didn't appear to be affected, were the Vulcan, and he only had one on his bridge. His helmsman was nodding off and his comms officer kept slapping himself to stay awake.

Then he sighed in relief. "Sir, Captain Yim reports that he has cleared his sector, he is requesting that his ships got to standdown." Zh'Ress said.

"Very good Bin, order the whole fleet to stand down." while they had been waiting for Yim's input he had stationed ships around the different planets of the Vega System, meaning all they had to do was set the ship on auto, and leave one able crew member at the command chair. He could feel the all over relief of the crew as he walked to his quarters, he was sure that it was the same on every ship.

 **USS** ** _Walker_**

Reddy didn't bother changing, T'Kira had volunteered for bridge duty, seeing that she at one point had taken a catnap during a visit to Sickbay, he just fell face first unto his bed and lay there. He secretly hoped he wouldn't wake up until he chose to, and not by some alarm.


	53. Episode 4: Part 8 (Explicit)

**The following has little/no importance in the following story, if you are underage or dislike romantic scenes, SKIP THIS!**

 **Part 8 (Explicit)**

Plasma fire was nasty stuff, it could burn without oxygen, and could eat through anything. What was even more dangerous was the residue, which could eat through Sierra clothing and set less fireproof materials alight. Sarah Triss was thankful that the DC crews had gotten the fires under control before the stand down was called, now she didn't have a distraction to keep her from her bed.

Her teams went off the sleep, and Triss made her way to her room, thankfully _Walker_ had sustained minimal damage and no one had lost their bunks. The only main problem had been in engineering where the main engines had gone offline, but Zarva had that fixed.

Speaking of Zarva, Sarah felt glad that the Bolian would most likely spend the rest of the day in her engine room mooning over the Warp Core or something like that. That left Sarah a chance to relax without having to listen to the woman pace about restless about Engineering. She also could strip without embarrassing her.

As was standard procedure after fighting plasma fires, Sarah stripped down to nothing, bra and all, then tossed the uniform down the garbage chute. For several seconds she stood nude in her room, relieved at finally being ventilated after so long in the tight Sierra suit. During the refit back at the beginning of February they had managed to install a small shower adjacent to the room, Sarah wrapped herself in a towel and went to wash off. When she finished she returned and began to change. She considered going solo in the bed, nothing to cover her but the sheets. Zarva will be back, she thought, and she would shoot herself if she accidentally saw me naked. Sarah tended to roll in her sleep, which tended to leave her sheets a mess on not on the bed at all, she finally settled with leaving her bra and knickers off while she donned the 'standard' black silk shirt and pants to bed.

Sarah had just made her bed up and was about to crawl under the sheets when the door chimed and opened. She turned to see the most haggard and tired person she had ever seen standing in the doorway. Zarva's face was covered in some greasy residue and her jacket sizzled in certain places. The most terrible sight was her hands, which were burnt and one actually sizzled with a small fire.

Zarva looked at Sarah, oblivious to anything but the brown haired Englishwoman. "I think I'd like to take you up on your offer." She said tiredly.

Sarah walked up and took Zarva's wrists, careful not to touch her hand for fear of Bolian's toxic blood, she pushed the arms aside and reached up to unzip the jacket. Sarah peeled it away quickly, despite a small protest as the cuff brushed across her hands, and tossed it into the garbage chute. She paused for a second to marvel at the woman who was eleven years older than her. Since the Sierra uniform was supposed to be more durable, t-shirts and tank tops worn under were optional, Zarva had always complained about how the cotton shirts she had purchased itched when under he uniform, so all she had worn was her bra and knickers. Sarah watched the Bolian's face as she reached behind her back to take off the bra, she made no protest and Sarah did her best to avert he eyes from the slightly larger breasts. She managed not to share but instead went down to remove the other part of the clothes. When she had the pants and knickers off, again trying to avert her eyes, Zarva stepped from the pile of clothes. And to the shower.

That was about all she did. Sarah had to turn on the water, at the same time avoiding Bolian blood, and scrubbed her off. She finished with wiping the grease from Zarva's face and pulling her away from the water. Dried off she wrapped Zarva's hands and treated them with melorazine from her operations kit. As she finished she looked at the blank eyes and asked a question.

"Now how on earth did you burn all the way through a pair of gloves and all the way down to your skin? You're lucky have hands Zarva."

Zarva's eyes were blank, her head remained bowed, staring off into space in the direction of Sarah's knees. "A conduit just broke open and I had no choice." she said slowly. She was very tired.

Sarah took her by the elbows and lifted her up, she started to reach for Zarva's bed clothes but a hand stopped her. Her eyes were red, if Sarah could look inside the woman's mind she would have seen that she could think of nothing but her engines, but so desparetly wanted sleep.

"Lay with me." she said slowly. "Like you offered last night."

Zarva had lost all track of time, she only knew she was tired. She felt Sarah wrap her arms around her neck and cover her lips in a sweet gentle kiss. Then she was pushed back to her bed, where she lay down and waited for Sarah to strip and join her. They were too tired for sex, yet as Zarva lay on the outside edge, Sarah wrapped her arms around her about her ribs and began massaging her. She worked her way up to her shoulders, hitting places her mother had taught her to hit. In two minutes flat Zarva was fast asleep, Sarah pulled the sleeping woman closer and cuddled next to her with her back as close to the wall as possible. She soon drifted off as well.

Zarva woke because she was cold, her eyes opened to see that she was laying bare in bed, and that the covers had been pushed down to her waist and drawn up past her knees. But a curious thought was the pair of human legs close to hers, one actually rested on her right leg as it stuck out from under her left. Her eyes trailed up a fit and young body that ended in a head full of soft brown hair.

Zarva's immediate reaction was to get from the bed and cover herself up, that she never should have been naked in bed with a fellow officer, especially one operating as close to her as Sarah. But she stopped and stared for a moment, she stared at beautifully smooth, tan, skin. Her mother had hair, but Zarva had never seen her put it up, it always confused her when women in Starfleet put theirs up, and Zarva wondered why Sarah's was tied up in what she had called a ponytail.

Zarva carefully extracted her arm from under the woman's head and quietly climbed from the bed. The poncho that some guy at the academy had given her was lying neatly folded on her dresser, she put it on and pulled her a pair of sleeping pants as well. The poncho came down to her knees and had strings that allowed it to be tied around the body. Once tied it hid Zarva's bare upper body. She went over to the mirror and looked at herself, questioning herself what had happened, she didn't realize her hands were wrapped until she rested them on the edge of her small drawer. She turned the lamp there on and took the bandages off to find her hands scarred. It stung a little.

Zarva glanced over her shoulder at Sarah's sleeping form and quietly pulled out an old-style spray can that said perfume on it. She sprayed her hands with the substance and rubbed them together. That's when she heard Sarah roll over and sigh.

Shit, Zarva thought and quickly replaced the can and turned off the light. She grabbed a roll of medical tape and began wrapping her hands again. By the time she started on the second hand she felt a pair of arms wrap around her, and a head land on her shoulder. When Zarva looked up at the mirror, the light of the Vega sun cast little light on Sarah, yet she could see her head outlined by the window.

"Come back." Sarah said low.

Zarva protested. "It's not proper."

A hand landed on her shoulder and brought her around to where she was pinned against the drawer. "Zarva, you've spent thirty years of your life worrying about a warp drive. Give in to something more. . .natural."

Zarva had to admit that the slender body was alluring, the dark brown eyes were made more attractive by the lack of light in the room, and she couldn't help but feel aroused by the push of Sarah's hips against her own.

"I've never done this before." Zarva whispered, she was shivering, a cold fear growing inside saying she'd mess this up.

Sarah's hands had been resting on Zarva's arms, they trailed up behind her neck now. "Neither had I." that was all she wrote, Sarah closed the distance with a kiss, one that grew deeper after only a few seconds.

Zarva put her arms around Sarah and pulled her closer in. Then she let go and assisted the woman in untying her poncho, as she loosened it Sarah put her hands up under the piece of clothing and grabbed one of Zarva's breast, as she massaged it with her left hand, the other went down to Zarva's rump and drew a moan when they went a little lower through the waistband of her pants.

This time they went farther than Zarva had ever planned to go. In the morning she may regret it, but tonight she wanted to be close, to change her entire religion for only a few hours.


	54. Episode 4: Part 9 (Conclusion)

**Part 9 (Conclusion)**

In the room was gathered a random selection of officer that Commodore George Horrocks had selected himself. It appeared to mainly be officers who had commanded battle groups as well as commanders of larger cruisers. Captains Shon, Yim, Thelin, Hawes, and a large number of captains from Group Three. So far as he could see, Reddy was the only Lieutenant Commander lucky enough to be in the room.

They were silent, many were good friends, even classmates, yet all were quiet as if it were a funeral. It turned out it basically was when Horrocks pulled out some old fashion paper and slid a piece to each man.

"Nine ships are gone, four more will be in drydock for maybe the next year, and sixteen ships will need major repairs, along with general damage throughout the rest of the fleet." they all took the lists and read over the names of the lost ships, some tried to conceal tears at the name _Renown_. "We have estimated somewhere in the area of twenty-five to thirty hundred crew dead, not counting civilian losses aboard _Galaxy_ -class ships, like the one lost over Vega III." there were also two more _Galaxy_ -class ships that had taken critical damage from plasma fire. Horrocks stood and clasped his hands behind his back, he turned and walked over to stare out the briefing room window. "Along with these losses, we've botched a couple of _Sovereign_ -class ships, and lost the brand spanking new _Regent_ -class starship. May I remind you that it is the only one in this quadrant, and that the other is not currently combat ready." He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "And I know that there is no one but me to blame."

A Klingon, Reddy had no idea what, or why, he commanded stood. "No! The dishonor is upon the Borg, not the man who fought to protect his home!"

"I was the man who ordered this attack and I'll bloody well suffer the consequences!" Horrocks snapped, the Klingon was taken back by the comment but he made no further protest.

"Negative sir, you are not entirely responsible for the loss of life." A Vulcan, who commanded one of the more recent _Noble_ -class experimental ships, spoke up. "You were assigned to command the Una Fleet, and you did so and ordered, while rather illogical, an assault that has won the day. While you did lose ships and crew, you successfully completed a mission, that if left for a later date, would have proven even more costly."

Horrocks sat down resigned. "They won't understand that, all they see are the losses and the numbers of losses. That's what affects the books, not the heroic stand, not the resolve or the fact that every man volunteered to be in the line. I guess this may have been my one and only flag assignment."

The Vulcan spoke up again. "A logical assumption, yet your concern with your place in the history books is one that seems to reflect arrogance."

"It's not arrogance Mister Chyv. . .well maybe it is, but us Englishmen are very proud of our heritage, and dishonor tends to affect our family lines for generations."

"The words of a warrior, and a philosophy of the Klingon Empire." the Klingon said.

Shon stood and stopped all conversation. "I for one, will not second guess your decision. Commodore, think of if we had delayed, or maybe if we had not attacked at all. Six months from now you may still be in control of some logistical staff right up to the point you are assimilated by the Borg that the Federation neglected to attack. Yes we could have attacked the day they arrived, but we didn't, and even if we had then, there still would have been losses. I have learned much of humans in my career, and I have learned that they always regret something, mainly loss of life. And I will not stand around here while you complain about losses that could have been much worse with a strictly constructed plan. If you would excuse me gentlemen." the Andorian stormed out.

The Commodore looked after him, not blaming the man. "I suppose I have been quite unfair with myself." he contemplated, then realizing that the eyes of the room were on him. "Dismissed."

Most stood and left, leaving only three left in the room beside Horrocks. They all stared at the man as he pressed his fingertips together and thought, he looked at Captain Chyv. "If you wish to boast sir, I suggest you leave before I forcefully remove you from my briefing room."

Chyv stood and walked until he was even with Horrocks. "I too support your decision. Even if it was costly, logic dictates that it would have been worse had we waited much longer." he left.

The Klingon stood and walked to the door and stopped. "Commodore, the people today were fighting for a most honorable cause. If they were Klingons, they would be met with celebration in Sto'vo'kor. I will see that they are properly honored on my command."

"Thank Captain, please you are dismissed."

The Klingon left.

Reddy had been sitting at the farthest end of the table, almost unable to see Commodore Horrocks, yet the Commodore looked down the table, raised his voice, and spoke.

"You invented the whole plan." He said.

Reddy stood and walked to a closer seat. "I only made the basics, you and your staff decided who would be where, and when." the Scotsman's face twitched. "I lost a ship in my group, a _Centaur_." that all he need say.

"We've both lost things today, good and bad." Horrocks had actually never lost a ship before, today had been the first time he had command of more than one, actually his first time commanding a ship into combat. "They gave me this whole job just so I'd botch it up, and it turns out they were paid in full."

Reddy couldn't respond to that. In fact conversation died right there, almost three thousand people were dead and even though not the most costly victory, it was definitely costly enough to fuel T'Kitos' campaign against Starfleet. Reddy stood and left the room, he had flown a shuttle over, it had been quicker that beaming, and took it back. Potter set them down quickly and they stepped off to hear a most peculiar sound.

Notes from a piano rolled over the ships PA system, ones that seemed oddly familiar from Reddy's times as a close friend of Samantha O'Connell. The notes played over several times until a drum set joined in, casually beating out a small rhythm with the piano. When a deep baritone voice spoke up Reddy realized it was the Engineers—a small acoustic band that enjoyed entertaining the crew in the mess hall every other Saturday night.

He finally recognized the song when the whole band joined into the chorus.

 _Will the circle,_

 _Be unbroken,_

 _By and by Lord by and by,_

 _There's a better,_

 _Home awaiting,_

 _In the sky,_

 _Lord in the sky. . ._

The song went on through several versus, each chorus after the first echoes by hands that must have been watching from inside the room. It finally came to the final chorus, where one tenor female voice, an Andorian impulse engine expert, sang out of harmony until they reached the " _Home awaiting._ " and sang the final notes solo. When she finished there were no applause, and before the PA cut off Reddy could hear them replace their instruments and step off the small stage they had.

No applause, Reddy thought and began clapping from his cozy chair in his quarters.

 **(Conclusion)**

I would again thank all of you who have continued to read this story, and a special thanks to one in particular who has been quite the inspiration with positive feedback. As this story is still in it's young stages and—although I do have some plans for the future—I would welcome any suggestions you may have for the immediate story arc (Which is the Klingon War).

(Strange note: I have unfortunately found myself reading Patrick Reddy's, and several other characters in the voice of TNG cast, most specifically Jean Luc Picard and Data, even now I read this text interchanging between those two voices.)

I believe we may take a break from the Vega Conflict for a short time, it will continue with possibly a One Part special concerning the taking of the Vega Planets, which I considered including in this final part but decided against it. Again, I accept PMs about the story, any you ask I will try my best to answer. I already appear to have a friend who is not afraid of giving feedback.

FYI: Song mentioned in final paragraphs can be found here ( watch?v=KlqC6Y4v8Mk) You may have to jump to around :45 seconds to get to the start, kinda one of those recordings.


	55. Episode 5: Hide and Seek

The Great Arc: Episode 5

Hide and Seek

 **(Stardate 86213: March 20, 2409)**

 **USS** ** _Kolibri's_** **Captain's Log, Commander Archibald Sumner in command.**

" **We are now bringing to a close our forty day training cycle, and I must gawk at how far my crew has come. If forty-five days ago I had been told that a group of civilians I saved from Vega IX would become a closely working crew for a** ** _Nova_** **-class vessel, I would have kicked that man and sent him away. Nevertheless, I have eighty-five crew with nine specialists from Starfleet and a group of men who are slowly becoming more familiar with their postings and the fields they have been interested in for so long. What has surpised me just as much has been the work that the Utopia Shipyards have done to restore** ** _Kolibri_** **to full function, they have even installed some different weaponry that needs testing. I am proud to say that in a few days we will be ready for a new frontier, yet I have a small quest first, one that the entire crew would understand."**

"Enter." Came an unhappy voice.

Archie stepped into the room and swallowed, trying to contain his nervous tendencies. Sitting at a desk at the rear of the dark room was Vice Admiral Shawns, a man who worked with Federation Starfleet Ship Charter, he didn't have a friendly face today, unlike when he had given Archie his Commander pins.

Archie marched until he was two paces before Shawns' desk and saluted. "Sir!"

Shawns returned the salute and took up a sheaf of papers as he motioned for Archie to sit. "I understand that you requested to take a brief tour as a rescue ship here in the Beta Quadrant?"

"Yes sir, I know that you offer charters, and I'd like to assist ships in this space, especially with the increase in Orion and Klingon activity as of late." Archie hated it when he sounded hopeful.

"Your request is denied."

Archie felt his jaw drop. He tried to protest.

"No, Commander, I know what you'll say, and it is a legitimate reason to want to remain in this part of Federation space, but I have the unfortunate possibility of knowing your true intentions." Shawns did wait for Archie to ask what he meant. "I read your file, you married a shipmate, and had a child before the Borg attacked. Am I correct?"

Archie swallowed, he had been found out. "Yes sir."

Shawns stood and walked over to his file cabinet. "Good, now if I wasn't a Starfleet Vice Admiral, and maybe a civilian contractor, I would gladly give you permission to do that. But since this memo obviously states that you wish to search for survivors of the Vega IX colony, it proves that you wish to put your agenda ahead of others. Which is something that I could have removed you from your command for, if you had succeeded in getting the assignment."

"But sir it's my wife and child." Archie pleaded, feeling helpless.

Shawns sat down and leaned forward. "Mister Sumner, if you can't live with the fact that your wife and child are dead, I suggest you turn in those fancy pins I gave you and find some secluded place to live. If so, do it now so I can get the paperwork done and give the _Kolibri_ to someone who will follow orders."

Archie flinched at the tone of Shawns' voice, the who he had thought to be understandable and likeable had had a change of character. Archie thought it best that he leave before Shawns decided to take his pins anyway. He stood and stepped back. "Is that all sir?"

"Get out Commander, _now_."

Archie didn't waste time with decor, he quickly left the admiral alone in his office.

"You bastard." Shawns said, looking at the darkest corner, purposely so, with hard glaring eyes.

A man clad in a jet black jacket and pants stepped from the shadows, he had yellow eyes and a nasty scar down his right cheek, starting just below the eye and engine level with his nostrils. His blonde hair was cut down to a fuzz and he had a mocking smile on his face.

"Be careful Admiral, not many men enjoyed what came after they insulted me." he said in his grating voice.

"I should call security and have you locked up for good." Shawns had the mind to shoot the man where he stood.

"I would not blame you, but you did what needed to be done. I have friends that tell me so."

"To hell with your friends! That man had a wife and kid, what if they are alive?" Shawns stood but thought better of physically harassing the man, he was probably serious about hurting people who insulted him.

"Oh trust me Admiral, they may very well be, in fact there is a very good chance that they both are, but it's not time for that to be seen." He chuckled. "It's been nice chatting with you Admiral, but I've got business in the Klingon Empire." he pulled out a small device and pressed several buttons, it chirped twice.

"Go — yourself spy." Shawns threw after him.

The man had turned and walked a little farther away from the desk. "How's your daughter Admiral? I heard she just started college." he beamed away, just like he had come.

Shawns ignored the man and went to filling out some forms about a Tellerian freighter than was to be loaned to Starfleet for medical relief. He looked up at the wall opposite, Tiff was starting at Auburn this year, just a day or two ago. Surely the man wasn't serious, no man could be that way. . .Shawns changed into his civilians clothes and went as fast as he could without running to the transporter pad, all the way trying to dial up Margaret on his communicator.

(I know this is a shorter first chapter, but I hope those of you who remember Archibald "Dallas" Sumner from Episode 1 now will know why he isn't hunting for his wife and kid. And while he should be doing so, his loyalty to Starfleet and his ragtag crew is stronger than his pull to search for his missing wife and kid. [BTW: this does not mean his family is dead, or alive, I'll make that decision at a later date.])


	56. Episode 5: Part 2

**Took me awhile, but here it is.**

 **Part 2**

Archie, heart in his feet, had to walk all the way across Earth Space Dock, too stubborn to take a turbolift, and wanting solace more than a quick trip. When you were in the tight closet-like turbolifts the person across had no choice to talk to you, yet when you were walking down and long and quiet hall you could be lost in thought, and only offer a nod or a grunt to a passing soul, you could look into your own and wonder what is behind, before, and beyond you. Archie had always enjoyed these times, which was why he had signed up aboard Operations, for the time he could take to himself when making a survey of a new planet. It was another reason why he married Fryfoe, his late alien wife, for she would always invite for him to open up his mind, and realize when he wanted to be alone.

Archie found his crew sitting about resting from the training they had gone through. While _Kolibri_ was being refitted they had been using a large holodeck here on Earth Space Dock to train each crewman at their post. They were all now certified as Crewmen, along with a select number listed as Specialists and several others now with their ranks reinstated and one or two given the grade of Acting-Ensign until they had served for a certain amount of time. Someone didn't like wasting time, for the last week they had been taking final exams and earlier today they had been through a most rigorous test. Archie wasn't surprised to see most of the crew sleeping, head laid back against their chairs or leaning on their fellow shipmates. Archie couldn't help but smile at them, they had pulled through a traumatic event and had bounced back in the best way they could. He knew they would be let down to not be able to search for their missing families, but Archie knew it was for the better. Best to have a little hope rather than none.

They were in larger waiting area, probably meant for more civilian means, with their personal belongings. It wasn't much. The invasion of Vega IX had come fast, most only had a weapon or the clothing on their back. And since Vega IX had been so isolated, she had hardly any use for Federation currency, which meant most had not bought anything either. Archie himself only had his old set of work clothes and his two weapons. Many others were the same, as Archie trekked through the rows of sleeping survivors he stepped past a number of interesting weapons. A number of the popular phaser compression rifles, several disruptors, and oddly a Jem'hadar rifle. He knew a number of faces, but since the _Kolibri_ docked a large amount of integration between the survivors rescued by the USS _Walker_ and _Kolibri_ had taken place, most of the yard hands that Archie had rescued had been shipped off to work in other places, and aboard other ships, leaving Archie with a number of former enlisted and self-educated scientists. Before he had known almost half his crew, now only about twenty of eighty-five faces were familiar to him.

Archie made to the far side of the room where two men and a woman stood. The largest man's name was Silva, George Silva, a heavy handed cross between a Bajoran and a sailor, which was quite interesting to study at times, and was lucky to have all of his pure white hair. Silva had been a Lieutenant of the Guard for Archie back on Vega IX, he had been married and had lost his wife when the block he lived on was destroyed. He wore the scars well, and managed to hide his pain with laughter and bright smiles.

Charley Zengilowski, a strange man who wore round glasses, he had needed them since he was a child but only was issued them when he became an acting-officer. In truth, none of the men in the room, or at least the number, would be alive if not for Charley. The quick witted meteorologist had been ridiculed for overreacting to atmospheric changes, such Archie had assumed when he had been called up to his small shack on a bluff on February 3rd. Then Archie had thought the man an annoyance, but since he had learned much about Warp Theory and advanced his education in meteorology and astrology, he now would be acting as _Kolibri's_ Science Officer with a rank of Acting-Ensign.

The woman was still, like most of her fellow shipmates, clad in her worn clothes she had made a living in on Vega IX. Loading Point Iota had been home of an automated mineral mine, one which required constant maintenance and manual loading of cargo unto automated barges to take the raw materials up to satellite stations that would manufacture goods for transport to other systems, Sakup had worked an important part as a white collar. She was young, somewhere in the range of twenty-three due to her parents inefficient record keeping, and despite the trauma of the Borg Invasion she still held close to her logical thoughts as a Vulcan, or at least on the outside she did. Sakup was indeed attractive, but in the days since they left their home, Archie had begun to think of the woman as his daughter, even becoming defensive of her when an engineer had taken interest in her.

Archie walked up and greeted the group, asked how long until the shuttles arrived.

"The first group was supposed to be here half an hour ago." George said, his voice was cracked by years in the land of lowlifes.

"Anyone asked around?" Archie asked.

"Charley tried, but they won't let any of us into Traffic Control." George pointed to a turbolift near the edge of the room. "They might you though, you do have a commission."

"Indeed." Archie agreed, he walked to the lift and stepped inside. "Traffic Control." the lift began to move.

It soon stopped and the door opened to reveal a darkened room full of computers and ESD crew clad in their white and blue sierra uniforms. Archie stepped from the lift to see a most formidable view of the planet beyond, and the massive expanse of ESD's inner docking area. The room was built like an auditorium, at the top was an observation and break area, with a three story window that stared into the depths of Earth Space Dock, it then went down level by level, with each tier about thirty meters across. At the very bottom were the command platforms, where officers monitored each type of traffic in each zone of space around Earth and the Space Dock. Archie took a moment to look out into the heart of ESD, he could see one of the magnificent _Sovereign_ -class cruisers—he had wanted to be assigned to one for year but unfortunately they were quite popular, and at the time enlisted had not been needed on such large ships.

A hand tapped Archie on the shoulder, he turned to see a Trill Ensign asking him a question. "Excuse me sir, can I help you?" she said very politely.

Archie took out his ID card which proved he was in Starfleet and a Commander. "Sumner, Commander, me and my crew were scheduled to take a number of shuttles to Mars about thirty minutes ago, I came up here to ask where they are."

The Ensign stepped over to a screen. "State your purpose for traveling."

"Launching of the USS _Kolibri_ , _Nova-_ class vessel, about eighty-five crew."

The Ensign punched some buttons and a readout came up, she sighed and turned to face. "I'm sorry Commander, those shuttles were delayed, they'll be arriving in about five minutes or so."

"Thank you Ensign." Archie turned and walked back to the transporter, casting one last look out that rear window. In a matter of seconds he was back in the loading area, as he stepped out the eighty-five crew had already begun to stand and start loading through the airlock in the center of the outside wall. Archie found that the walk was like one that would connect to a larger ship, but off to each side was the hatch to board shuttles. Archie had to walk down to the end to find his. He climbed in to find Charley, Sakup, George, a massive Tellarite named Glodis, almost eight feet tall, and the two familiar faces of Milo and Dan Klien, former electricians aboard the _Kolibri_. There was a young Klingon-Human but Archie had never asked his name, he wore the single chevron of a crewman.

As the pilot came back and Archie was done strapping in, he looked at three stripes on Glodis, what was curious was the Starfleet Medical symbol placed in the V made by the topmost chevron. "A medic Glodis?" he didn't know the Tellarite well, only that he had just about the same previous life, and loss, as George Silva.

"Indeed, Commander, I always wanted to learn how to break bones." Archie wasn't good at interpreting Tellarite expressions, but he was quite positive that Glodis had the equivalent of a wicked smile. "Besides, little Todd here will make a better helmsman than me." He nudged the boy with his elbow.

Archie couldn't help a smile, he noticed that everyone in the shuttle had the same uncontrollable smile on their faces, except Sakup, and he could tell that many were excited to be going away from ESD and to their savior. Archie had to spend a second reminiscing on how far they had come, these were the strongest, the ones who had quickly embraced their lost families, and were ready to start a new life.

"Alright, Starfleet Control, this is Utopia Shuttle 243, requesting departure Shuttle transition to Mars Shipyards." the pilot touched his ear as someone responded, the hatch folded shut and the crew felt the ship power up and the inertial dampeners attempt to compensate as the pilot pulled them away. "Thank you Starfleet Control, we surely will." the pilot responded to the conversation none could hear.

Archie felt butterflies in his stomach, he was excited, and this shuttle just wouldn't move fast enough to get to Mars and aboard _Kolibri_. They all watched out the main viewport as the man shifted power to his impulse engines and sent them on quite the acceleration arc. After about two minutes he cut power and swung his chair around. "Get's rougher each time, maybe they'll get me a new shuttle soon." he unclasped his buckle and went to the rear of the compartment and pulled some kind of rations from a storage locker. He passed them about. It was type of chip, thick and salty, Archie recognized it as homemade potato chips, something he had prided himself with.

"Make these yourself?" Archie asked.

"Na, never had a talent for cooking, I just pop the process into my replicator and it does better than I ever could."

Archie chuckled, he had never really been fond of replicators. It came from his father, who had grown up without the assistance of technology, had insisted that they eat real foods. Vegetables grown in their own yards, animals they had raised. He had insisted on making his own vegetables throughout his Starfleet career, and had later put those skills to more use on Vega IX, where the mountainous regions didn't have replicators.

For several more minutes the mountaineers discussed what homemade dishes they preferred from their homes. Even Sakup pitched in some Vulcan dishes, which a few present had enjoyed. They managed to talk for the three hours it took their shuttle to make it to Mars. The man slowed down and laid in a course to dock, one that took them past a certain line of drydocks. As they flew along the row, Archie unbuckled and stared out. He could see the _Rhode Island_ an _Olympic-_ class and the ancient, but still useful, _Oberth-_ class. There was a massive amount of space traffic, most runabouts, shuttles, and science vessels, which tried to draw Archie's eyes away from the lady at the end of the row. He had known her for such a short time, but he knew her like his palm or the insides of his rifle. She was a little special, a feature meant for closer observation of asteroid fields, nebulae, and anything which you could closely observe. It was an observation deck that circled over the main bridge and tubular in form, much like a worm wrapped around the top of the bridge. _Kolibri_ was a sight from anywhere, to Archie at least, and as he laid eyes on her he wished to jump through the cabin of this tiny ship and be on the bridge now.

He stared until the pilot told him to get back in his seat.


	57. Episode 5: Part 3

**Part 3**

 _Kolibri_ was bustling with activity as new crewmen came aboard and were settled in and were doing a little more hands-on training. Supplies were being moved aboard and refit crews were saying goodbye to officers aboard and going on their way.

Lieutenant Sherryl Kennealy was sad to see the crews go, she had been working with them for several months as a supervisor and recently learning about the refit happening to _Kolibri_. They had been so competent in their work, for being so young, and she had genuinely enjoyed their company. Sherryl, being as old as she was, had wanted to stay with them, but as an expert in the design of ships she had been designated First Officer for this voyage, and she was itching to meet Commander Sumner.

Finally it was time to meet him as he boarded the ship, and she intended to make a fine first impression. She had pulled ten of the new crewmen together, a diverse bunch it was, and lined the halls next to the main airlock on Deck Three, she called them to attention, and lacking a bosun's whistle she trilled out the proper notes after calling them to attention.

Archie bent as he went through the airlock and stepped into an environment much brighter than the gangway. He had heard the command and the trilled notes and stopped when he saw ten nicely arranged crewmen in Sierra uniforms. Next to him a Lieutenant, her hair was silver and she had the features of a woman in her forties. She faced him and saluted.

"Commander, Lieutenant Sherryl Kennealy relinquishing command!" she said proudly.

Archie returned the salute. "Commander Archibald Sumner, receiving command." they both dropped their salutes and Archie held out a hand. "Good to see someone knows proper décor around here Lieutenant."

"Yes sir, I pride myself on it." Kennealy smiled and returned a sturdy handshake.

Archie looked at the assembled crew. "I'm sure you all expected a full inspection," he said in jocular tone. "but unfortunately I haven't a uniform, so it will have to wait." he couldn't help his proud smile. "And trust me, I know what a good ship looks like. Dismissed."

The lines broke and they all went about their business in different areas of the ship. Archie faced the Lieutenant. "I'm sure you have things you'd like to discuss with me, but first I'd like to change out of these." He gestured to the clothing he had been trying to keep together for the past forty days.

"Indeed sir. Crewman Maewad!" she called and a short Rigelian came around the corner. He was young, almost sixteen in human years, and held himself like a waiter at a fancy restaurant. "Tank our good commander here to his quarters Crewman."

Maewad nodded to the Lieutenant. "Yes ma'am. Commander? Right this way." he waved a hand and guided Archie through the ship.

Every corner they turned there were people working, loading containers and figuring out sleeping quarters arrangements. It wasn't long before Maewad stopped to access a wall panel and gesture into the room behind the adjacent door.

Archie stepped inside to find that the captain's quarters were quite humble, he had a twin sized bed in room about the size of old hotel room, the rest was dominated by a working desk and drawers for his belongings. He looked through the room, looking in the well sized refresher, and kept a poker face. "These will do, I guess." he said, with a voice of discontent. It was a joke at the Crewman's expense, he indeed liked the quarters.

Archie looked to see that the crewman was still standing there. He sat his bag on the bed and sat behind the desk. "Can I help you Crewman?"

"Sir, it is my duty to inform you that I will be serving as your Yeoman on this first tour sir, or at least until I have been given another assignment." He stated flatly.

Archie could see that the boy was eager to please, and obviously eager to serve his commander. "Crewman," he began. "I sure you would make a perfect Yeoman, and I'm sorry to disappoint you. But I've lived my entire life serving myself, and as captain of this vessel I intend to do just that. Now I'm sure you have other training, maybe you can help out in Operations or Sciences, from what I hear they may be quite busy in the coming months."

Maewad seemed confused, as Archie had seen in Yeomen before, especially when turned down by a commanding officer. "But sir, I am assigned as you Yeoman." he protested.

"You said until you received another assignment, I'm assigning you to Operations." Archie persisted, concerned that he seemed to be breaking the boy's dream. "Now skedaddle." he looked down at the desk.

As soon as the door closed he looked up and studied the room more thoroughly, he had a fine eye on how bear the walls were. He knew it was a small set of quarters, but probably the largest on the ship, but he could do with some decorations. While on ESD he had managed to haggle a pair of hooks from a tailor, he grabbed them from his bag and placed them on the wall above his small dresser. They magnetized to the hull and set firm and level, with the blue tetryon rifle sitting atop it was a start to making the room more homely.

His eyes then went to the refresher, all of Vega IX's refugees had been housed in one cargo bay, and a communal shower had been provided. Not many had liked that, in fact the crew of _Kolibri_ had hardly showered in forty days, and Archie couldn't begin to describe how bad he smelled. He quickly stripped and threw his old dirty clothes through the garbage chute, except for his old trench coat, and quickly showered off. When done he dried off and opened one of the drawers to see that a complete set of uniforms had been replicated for him, he took the more combat-like Sierra uniform, and more comfortable, and donned it. The Sierra was different in the respects that it was more durable and could have stiff energy absorbent panels inserted into it. It was a special type of leather that reacted with the environment and was multilayer jacket, so Archie could easily two of three layers out to make it more comfortable. Regulations stated that a Starfleet standard issue synthetic cotton shirt be worn under the jacket and that it be unzipped no lower than the level of the ranks.

Archie noticed that he had been given two Sierra uniforms, both a variant for Operations, noticeable by the slightly paler yellow shoulders, and a commanding officer variant, with light gray shoulders. Archie took a moment to look at the gray variant as he took it from the drawer; as was common, the shoulders were built stiff so the uniform always had the appearance of being well pressed and smooth. He sat it on his bed and retrieved the ranks that Admiral Shawns had given him, he pinned the three Commander pips in little area allocated for them on the right breast.

Archie had just zipped the jacket to hear his doorbell ring. "Enter." he hoped it wasn't the Yeoman.

The door slid open and Archie turned to see Lieutenant Kennealy standing very formally in the doorway. "Commander, I came to inform you that we are almost prepared to leave drydock."

Archie's rank felt loose, he looked down and fiddled with it. "Destination?"

"Neptune sir, we'll be spending some time training the crew there, as will other ships being launched in the next week." Kennealy never once seemed to break bearing, or at least let her voice slip from a formal tone.

"And after that?" Archie decided that the rank was fine and that it was him, he just had to readjust to the uniform.

"Some have said the edge of the Alpha Quadrant, but I think they'll be sending us up above the Nimbus Sector." these words were a little more unsteady; Archie had just figured the type that Kennealy was, it was the type that was hardcore, and had probably served under a man who discouraged guessing.

Archie forcused on the woman, for as old as she, she still cut a fine figure. She was muscular to the point her jacket wouldn't conceal her sizable biceps, and legs that were quite similar. Her eyes were a deep brown and were made darker by her silver hair. Archie found her quite the marvel, and a possible problem.

"How come you didn't use the internal comms?" he asked.

Kennealy tried to conceal a smile. "I was stuck on planet several years back where we had little or no communication, we always sent a runner in case we didn't catch the person we were trying to reach. It has become habit every since then to talk to, rather than through." she reached behind her back. "That's also why I keep this." she showed Archie an old style communicator, one from the 2280s.

Archie walked over to his bag and took out his own, it was around the same time, maybe a little older, but he handed it too her.

"A fine antique, can't say you took care of it though." she said.

Archie couldn't help but laugh. "Someone had smuggled in a shipment back before I arrived on Vega. In fact a lot of things had been smuggled in and just stored in the back building," Kennealy didn't exactly understand but she made sure her expression showed it. "I took up residence in a mountainous region where we needed a Guard to defend us from large predators, so I helped set that up, having the command training I needed, and before long I found the communicators and linked them together." He gazed dully at the small box. "It saved a good few of us on February 4th." he shook his head away from the memories and leaned back against his desk. "I hope you haven't replaced my bridge crew, they've been specially trained since we made dock."

Kennealy gave a sorry smile. "Only your assigned Tactical Officer."

Archie tilted his head. "George?"

"I'm sorry Commander, but he just doesn't have the experience with the new weapons we've built into this ship." She her apologetic smile changed to a frown. "I've also been assigned as you First Officer, so I'll be taking up both those slots."

"And what about George? He is a good friend, and would be eager to learn about those duties." Archie was sure Kennealy would be a fine bridge officer, but George proud man, he may be hurt by this change.

Kennealy nodded. "I thought so, but I've assigned him to Operations. When we make it to the Outreach he should have plenty of work to do."

Archie nodded, he then realized that Kennealy had come to inform him that they were almost ready to leave dock. "Well then, I guess we should be heading to the bridge eh?" He straightened, tugged on his jacket and gestured for Kennealy to lead the way.

A Nova-class had a bridge crew of six, complementing a helmsman, who sat at the front centered on the viewscreen and doubled as a navigator, a Sciences expert who sat near the right access—which was a turbolift—and worked both deflector, sensors, and communication duties, an engineer who managed his station near left access—which connected directly to the deck below them and had the ladder to the observation deck just outside it. That left the Operations controller, he managed the other panels and took the place of anyone who was required to leave their post. He also acted as third-in-command and would manage the dogwatch. The final two were the Captain and his First Officer, who managed the tactical station of the ship. They sat side by side in the middle of the bridge with a large panel sat between them. In all, the duties of the bridge was shared between the entire bridge crew, which was why all chair on the bridge were set on wheels instead of bolted into the deck.

Archie's helmsman was the short Crewman Todd, Sciences was controlled by Charley Zengilowski, Engineering was under the capable hands of Saurian former-electrician Milo Klien. The final command was managed by an older Saurian, he was beginning to hunch his back under the strain of everyday life, Ruzngu, a former Troop Sergeant back on Vega, was capable of lots of things, and him being on the bridge was a comfort—he was known to study a person's behavior and note how they acted, if he noticed someone acting strangely he would not be afraid of voicing his opinion, Archie had known the man to save many a life back in the Guard because of his observations.

Archie took his seat and sat back. "Helm, ready for departure?"

Todd, spoke over his shoulder. "Engines are ready, awaiting releasing of docking clamps and clearance from Mars Control."

Archie's chair didn't spin, so he twisted to look at Charley. "Signal Mars Control that we are ready for departure and request clearance."

Charley worked at his console then swung his chair around. "Mars control signals that we are cleared and that a departure path will be laid into our helm."

"Very well." Archie looked back ahead. "Mister take us out Mister Todd, manual control."


	58. Episode 5: Part 4

**Part 4 (A week later.)**

"Gentlemen, everything that is said in this room does not leave. The penalty for such is court-martial and maybe a few worse things from people you should hope to never meet." The Captain was a tall Yridian with a terrible attitude and a deep voice. He had broad shoulders for a Yridian, but the room didn't care to dwell on why; they had all been ordered to meet here and tell their crew that they were going to eat with old friends, other than that, they were to arrive at random intervals and wear the insignia two ranks below them. Archie didn't need to be told that this was cloak and dagger work, which didn't bode well for his crew hoping to begin exploring.

"You don't need to know my name, only that I am a qualified Starfleet Captain and am with Starfleet Intelligence, something that you will hopefully come to take orders from, and not ask questions." he opened a briefcase full of paper and began handing out folders. "Several weeks ago, a ship under a newer captain delivered a Vulcan ambassador to the monastery of P'Jem. Except he wasn't an ambassador, not even a Vulcan." The Yridian turned and darkened the one window in the room until they were sitting in complete dark with only the light of a few guidance lights to see by. The a hologram popped up from the podium the Yridian had been using for his briefcase. "Ambassador Sokketh was an Undine, something that is too complicated to go into depth on, and was killed a Starfleet officer as well as instigated a Klingon takeover of the monastery before he was successfully killed. This infiltrator could be one of many, we managed to find a hidden transmission that his ship sent before it was destroyed." the hologram showed first an image of Ambassador Sokketh, then a Undine, then a view of a battle in which several ships were pitched against a strangely shaped ship that Archie seemed to recall as being of Undine design. "The message listed several places, several nebulas and systems. That is why you are all here, with most of the fleet either ferrying supplies to the war effort in the Vega System, defending out trade routes, or being repaired from the battle in the Vega System, we have decided to focus our scientific vessels to the mission of investigating these locations. Especially the nebula's, which your ships will be able to cope with better than others in the fleet."

The Yridian opened his briefcase again and pulled from it a number of data chips. "These here will have your specific missions in them, take them and show them to your _senior_ staff." he handed them out through the room, Archie was quite sure, since most of them had been instructed on where to sit, that it was not random. "Now when you leave this room, look as if you just ate, socialize with not officer more than simple farewell while in this part of the spacedock." He went back and placed his hands on the podium. "This mission is top secret, share it only with your crew if a situation arises where it is imperative. Do you understand?" Heads nodded. "Good, dismissed gentlemen."

There was a mass exodus that Archie had to make his way through, they all had to funnel through a single door and it took a good while before the thirty or so officers were through. Archie did notice a number of faces that he knew from back at the Academy, but he ignored them, eager to return to his ship. He had made it quite a distance from the room they had met in when he was tracked down in a silent hallway.

"Archie stop running from me." it was a husky and grating voice, one that was scarred from years of yelling as a Chief.

Archie turned to see a man, clad in the same Sierra Uniform, trying to catch up to his quick walk. The man was older, but what surprised Archie was the new and shining silver ranks on his yellow uniform, the ranks that showed that Major Call was a Starfleet Ensign.

Maj approached with a big broad grin and an offered hand. Archie took it and shook, Maj looked better, almost younger than his very late years. "You look younger." he commented.

"Feel so too." Call unconsciously stroked his rank, he had been the third generation in his family to be Starfleet enlisted. For some reason it was weird to see the man with a broad grin on his face.

"They treating you well?" Archie asked.

"Better than ever, I had an old friend who is and Admiral now, I had him pull some strings and get me a ship. USS _Manhattan-C_ , under my command until a proper command officer can be procured." The man who had once been a sloth of sorts, always moping about their embassy and complaining about the coffee now looked like a young man on his first assignment.

"What class, and crew as well?" Archie had never heard of a ship called Manhattan, despite all his years of working among scientific vessels.

" _Oberth_ -class, the crew is mostly made up of amateurs and volunteers, much like yours I hear. I have to say I wish I was in your shoes."

"What about mine have you heard?" Archie had been spending most of his time aboard _Kolibri_ as they maneuvered off Neptune, hearing that someone had heard of his ship was something new to him.

"Only that she's equipped with the best of that pack _Walker_ and you brought from Vega, and that she's got the most advanced weapons Starfleet has yet to equip on ship, hell she is the pride of the Outreach Fleet currently." in respect to his feeling younger, Call constantly shifted from foot to foot.

Archie was impressed, he had thought that the ships working to become the force behind Outreach had been out of the way, but apparently someone cared enough that it was known to many captains. He nodded and was about to start up again when Call seemed to remember something. "Oh, sorry Archie but I've got a small appointment that I have to keep." he shook Archie's hand and bid him farewell.

Archie turned and suppressed a chuckle, he had seen it in young captains years before, always in a hurry to get where they needed to be, and usually good at making excuses to get out of conversations. Call was most likely caught up in that feeling.

Archie walked on to where his ship's small shuttle was docked, they had two Type 8s for their own use, and sat quietly in the back for the half-hour it took to reach the _Kolibri_ in a high orbit of Mars. The docking procedure was quick and Archie didn't have wait around for anything special. He had called a senior staff meeting and the most important officers aboard _Kolibri_ would be waiting on him.

There was only a few people qualified to hear what the Yridian had said, maybe not even a few of them. Sherryl Kennealy filled the role of Tactical Officer, who commanded anything that had to do with combat aboard the ship, including security and operations, a stuck up Lieutenant JG by the name of Sam Burnstein was the Chief Engineer, and Charley Zengilowski were all present. However the security chief, a Betazoid, was present due to the matter of this mission being one of Starfleet intelligence.

Archie took the data chip from his pocket and addressed the computer. "Computer, shut off all recording devices for this briefing room, and isolate the computer for this room. Any data entered will be erased as soon as the computer is closed. No information will leave this room." the computer acknowledged and Archie spotted a small shape thousands of miles away through the windows of the room. "Close battle shutters for this room." the shutter slid shut and the room went very dark. Archie inserted the data chip into a slot in the table and ordered that it be reviewed.

Immediately a hologram came up of a tall man in a black uniform, he was older, and spoke with a British accent. "Commander Sumner, I know you haven't been told a lot, but here is a small review of what you were told earlier." the hologram shifted and the man covered the exact same thing the Yridian had. "Now that you and your senior staff know, I'm going to tell you this: the Undine have infiltrated more than just our ranks, we believe they are trying to spark war between us and the Klingon Empire, and maybe even the Romulan Star Empire, with that in mind, it is more than imperative that you remove the enemy threat." the image changed to a picture of part of the Beta Quadrant. "Your mission is the Paulson Nebula. After dissecting the remains of the Undine ship we engaged in the P'Jem system, we found a hidden transmission that is spread across most of the space that is strategically important to both Starfleet and the Klingon Empire. We want you too go to the Paulson Nebula and scan the region for any Undine activities, or possibly any Klingon. The transmission mentioned a listening post, and we also have heard that the Gorn have been working in that area. I would advise extreme caution, as well as care to remain unnoticed." the view returned to the Britishman. "This data chip will erase all data on it, please use it aboard your ship to conserve resources. Good luck Commander." the hologram shut off.

"Lights on." Archie ordered. The lights came up and he looked about the table. He looked at each officer for a number of seconds. "Well?"

"Well what?" Burnstein said. "We've got orders to go incognito and I have orders that I don't like. So I'll go back to my damn post." Burnstein had made it clear on the first day that he hated _Kolibri_ and her entire crew, and had no intention of serving aboard as a good officer. Archie was glad to see the man leave the room. He looked at the remaining group, his eyes focused on the security chief.

"I want you to control scuttlebutt, especially from Burnstein." He said bluntly.

"And if something does get out sir?" thankfully this Betazoid refrained from reading everyone's mind.

"Tell them we're heading to the Paulson Nebula for patrol and buildup investigation."

"What's buildup investigation?" Charley said, playing with an old pen he had once used on Vega IX.

"Exactly." Archie said with a smile, Sherryl smiled as well. "Unless necessary, we do not disclose that we're down there looking for Klingons, except the bridge crew must know, but not until we get there. As he also said we might encounter the Gorn, be sure that the weapons are ready Lieutenant." he looked and there appeared to be no more questions. "Well then, we'll make way as soon as possible and arrive in time for a fresh start tomorrow."

The final officers stood and departed, Charley tagging along beside the security chief and saying something about getting food. Archie didn't hear what she said in return and didn't exactly care. He was stopped by Kennealy before he got out the door.

"About the weapons, it's about time you learned some on them." She sat back down and pulled out some specs.

Archie sighed and turned around to face her. "Do I have to?"

The woman scratched her head and looked at him dully. "I'm not a fan of it either, but since we're could be seeing combat tomorrow I want you to know something about the offensive capability of this ship."

Archie sighed and sat across from her, she inserted a chip into the console and immediately a hologram of _Kolibri_ came up. Highlights showed around several key points on the ship. "We are well armed for a scientific vessel, but once you think we really don't have the power for older weapons. As you should know, standard phasers channel their power through the engines, thus you can choose between being maneuverable, or being powerful."

"Not always the best decision." Archie retorted.

The Lieutenant rolled her eyes. "But we've managed to find a good balance with some experimental Tholian weaponry that was recently encountered. While it's not the most heavily tested, it is much more powerful that our phasers when our main engines are running at full power."

Archie found that was all he needed to know, he was a sapper, not a mechanic. "Well that's great."

"Stay where you are Commander or I'll have state that this ship is not ready for it's mission." Archie had been anticipating laying after a long day of training and getting in shape, he huffed and crossed his arms as Kennealy continued. "Now this ship use to have eleven phaser conduction points but now it only has eight. . ."


	59. Episode 5: Part 5

**I do believe I owe an apology to anyone who is on the edge of their seat waiting for each Part of this story. I've been playing a large amount of STO lately and this story has been particularly challenging since it is one I have never paid as much attention. I may have mentioned it before, but** ** _Kolibri's_** **weapons are made off the Tetryon type from STO, especially the weapons you receive from the Nukara reputation line. Also I will accept creative stories for the following episodes, I will outline this: Season 1, or as I will rename upon completion, will be known as the Klingon War. Not entirely for the campaign, but for what would actually be happening if STO was written a little better. This war is to last until 2412, three years, and will have numerous battle and types of conflicts. Now there really is not enough raw material for be to construct the three seasons I am planning on making for this conflict, and the Gorn Advance, which will go from 2412-2415, so I need your input. I have missions, but I need story and inspiration. Take Traelus and Zibal, both are Neutral Zone missions, they are good events, but I need backstory and secondary conflicts. Repairing sattelites and saving a freighter will hardly make up more than 3000 words.**

 **I am opening the story up to you, the reader, and I hope that you feel free to PM me, or give a review, so that you can have a say in this story. It's as much yours as mine, and I will give credit where credit is due.**

 **Best Guy, out!**

 **Part 5**

Crewman Todd stopped what he was doing. Something that never bode well on the bridge of a starship, he checked his panel several times over.

"Is there something wrong Mister Todd?" Ruzngu, casually pacing the bridge, stopped what he was doing and asked.

Todd was startled by the old Saurian but made his report. "I'm receiving a faint distress signal coming from the outskirts of the Lackey System."

Ruzngu looked at Charley who was already at work at his console. "Charles, can you confirm that?"

"One second." Charley mumbled, then clapped his hands. "Confirmed, distress signal from the USS _Valor_." he looked at Ruzngu as the man thought.

Ruzngu acted like an android, he stood there for several moments thinking then walked to a panel to the left of the main viewscreen. After working for several seconds he stepped into the pit—the lower area in which the First Officer, Captain, and Helmsman sat—and made his report to Archie. "Captain, the _Valor_ was in this system to map the Paulson Nebula. If something went wrong she may require us to tug her away, or help her shoot her way out of the system."

Archie looked at the man, he had ordered the ship to go to silent running—all exterior lights would be turned off and long range scanners shut down to prevent the ship from being detected scanning other ships—he had intended to drop out of warp and attempt to mask their energy signature as soon as they reached the edge of Lackey. He looked at Kennealy. "So much for going incognito." he looked up at the helmsman. "Increase to Warp Five, disengage silent running and go to yellow alert."

Lights stationed around the bridge began to blink in a bright yellow color. "Warp Five sir."

Ruzngu went back to the wall panel. "I'll take sensors from here Charles." he had always called Charley by his proper name, rather than using his preferred name.

They ran on for several minutes, closing the distance at Warp Five.

"Captain." Charley said. "I've got the message clear now, it seems they are disabled and under attack."

"Confirmed sir," Ruzngu cut in. " _Valor_ is currently surrounded by three ships, not able to determine the design as of yet, but there appear five ships in the system."

Archie let out a sigh of exasperation. "Red Alert, shields up and weapons online." he looked at Kennealy. "I want you to take control of the weapons personally, down here or on the top deck, your choice." while right access had been replaced with a door unto the surrounding decks, only a meter beyond it was a ladder up to the observation deck above the bridge.

Kennealy started to stand. "You really bought into the cloak and dagger job didn't you?" she joked, and went to her post that was just forward of right access. She soon had the weapons ready. "Weapons online sir."

Archie stood and walked up behind Todd. "I want you to bring us out of Warp less than ten kilometers away, can you do that?"

"Takes guts and good timing." he said, Archie detected sarcasm in his voice, the boy's smile faded at the sight of Archie's stern gaze. "Aye sir."

"Good." Archie went back to his chair. "Time 'til contact?"

"Five seconds sir. . .four. . .three. . ." warp trails faded from the viewscreen and Archie could hear the ship winding down. "two. . .one. . .out of warp."

The image spun for several seconds, then three oddly shaped ships—they looked much like a lizard with a rectangular head, minus the body and tail, with two large and unwieldy warp nacelles—circling the marooned form of a _Centaur-_ class ship: the _Valor_.

"Sir, three Gorn starships, all rated as frigates. Computer classifies them as Vishap." Ruzngu reported.

Archie found reports such as that annoying in the face of battle, especially when you were pressed to make the first move. He could see the _Valor_ was trying to return fire but could only do so weakly. "Damn their class, Miss Kennealy, lock weapons on."

"One ship had broken away and is heading for us." Ruzngu called out.

"Weapons locked on." Kennealy called.

"All weapons fire!" Archie leaned forward in anticipation as two bright torpedoes assisted by the blue streams of their specially fitted Tholian weapons cut the space between them and the frigate apart. The frigate, closing quickly, absorbed the shots into it's shields.

"No damage, enemy shields were damaged." Kennealy reported. "Firing again."

Once again the blue stream lanced out and caught the frigate, for several seconds they impacted the shields, then there was a glimmer, the sign that they were losing power. The nacelles went dark and the glimmer became a flicker as the shields began to drop. Kennealy was no idiot, she saw the flicker on her own panel and immediately fired two torpedoes. The first torpedo impacted dead forward, the second followed it neatly in, and together the explosives of the projectiles opened the front of the frigate like the barrel of an old-fashion projectile that had been overloaded with powder. Todd had to suddenly pull up to avoid the wreckage.

Charley pumped a fist in the air and let out a low cheer.

"Lock unto next target and begin sequential fire." Archie stood and looked at the two remaining frigates. They were now angling away from _Valor_ , for a second their warp engines grew brighter and then they disappeared. "Belay that, weapons at ready." he returned to his seat. "Charley, get me _Valor_."

"They are hailing us sir." Charley said.

"Onscreen." Archie had sat up and waited, the screen flicked over to the wide picture of a damaged bridge. Screens were blown out, sparks coming from the ceiling and a girder lay across what would have been the helmsman's seat. " _Valor_ , this is Commander Sumner of the USS _Kolibri_ , do you require assistance?"

A man with dark skin, who had been standing on the left of the screen, stepped into the space between the navigator and helmsman, he was hunched over, and stumbling over a limping right leg. "You'd love to offer us some wouldn't you?" he said sarcastically.

Archie was taken aback by the sharp comment, the only response he could come up with was asking for the man to repeat himself.

The man shook his head and sighed. "Pardon me Mister Sumner, we've had an eventful morning, and not in a humorous or simply aggravating way." his speech was very proper and was washed with heavy emotion. He went back and sat in his command chair. "We were attempting to map the Paulson Nebula when we noticed that the drain on our warp core was too high, so we made a trail from there and looked for something to give us a boost. This was the area." he sighed again and looked away from the screen, the only hint of what he was looking at was the loud crack of a panel overloading. "Our engines had been damaged, so we had trouble turning, by the time we saw the Gorn it was too late and all we could do was slow down. Another mistake on my part, when we dropped out of warp we were swarmed by five Gorn frigates, we are on our last legs." he looked at his boots. "We are all in your debt Mister Sumner."

Archie pitied the man, by the looks of his bridge, which included a number of bloodstains on some of the consoles and walls, he had lost a good number of his crew. "How can we help you, Captain. . ." he hadn't asked Ruzngu for the man's name.

"Marz, Stefan Marz. We've got a number of problems I'm sure, I'll patch you through to my chief engineer."

The screen changed and there was the image of a rather desolated engine room. A Bolian wandered into view wearing the rank of a Lieutenant Commander, he noticed the screen and walked up to it. "Hello there." he said in a cordial voice. "I'm not quite sure what to say, has Stefan been done in?"

Archie was again surprised. "No sir, but he patched us through to here so that we could assist you in anyway possible."

The Bolian looked behind him. "Indeed you can help, but unless you have a few dilithium crystals you won't do much good. We don't even have impulse power," he squinted at the screen. "sir." he finished. "Say, we warped into this area because we saw trace amount of such, probably why my engine room looks like a bloody storm of humans ran through it at a strippers yard, and if ye're an actual ship you could collect a few for us."

"Very well, Commander, we'll see what we can do." he nodded at Charley to close the hailing frequency. As soon as the image went back to the view of _Valor_ and the space around her, Archie let out an uncanny laugh. "I can never understand Bolians, even if I spent my life studying them I still wouldn't understand half of their nature." he came to realize that the entire bridge crew was staring at him. He straightened his face and looked at Ruzngu. "Mister Ruzngu, set up for a scan. Let's get _Valor_ on her way so we can get on ours." he stood and went out right access and down the hall five meters to his Ready Room. He sat down in his chair and pondered for several seconds, his mind went to the _Valor_ and her crew: how many had died? She was a ship with a crew around two hundred souls, and he had read reports about how pour the armor of light cruisers was, and how little meaning the word 'light' meant. They were lighter and smaller than most ships, but no one had thought to make their engines powerful enough to make a difference. He thought about how easily that could happen to his ship, which wasn't even built for battle but was now expected to act like it had been.

Archie leaned back and thought, life threw curve balls, and he just hoped he'd manage to at least hit the ball, even a foul would be better than striking out.

After two hours of searching out pure enough dilithium, one hour guarding the _Valor_ as she made the preliminary repairs, and fifteen minutes playing hide and seek with a Gorn vessel, _Kolibri_ finshed her work and watched as the _Valor_ warped away to Starbase 157. Marz sent his thanks via text only, and suggested that they stop by Lackey III and grab some Decalithium from a Gorn occupied processing facility, he included a large amount of anger about how the Gorn had driven out Federation miners, but never once managed to curse. Archie ordered that the mission be covert, and soon the ship was under way and rigged for silent running. Archie decided they'd get their engine boost, then make their run for the Paulson Nebula.


	60. Episode 5: Part 6

**Sorry it took so long Jasmin, I've been busy and STO hasn't been working well enough to give me inspiration.**

 **Part 6**

Getting decalithium from Lackey III could be described in one word: SNAFU. Archie had liked this word in his younger days, now it was offensive and under the pressure of command, especially in a situation as tense as this, had meaning to him. Sure in the past there had been snafu's, times when the cargo was twice as heavy as predicted, or twice as large. Times when the new loadmaster treated torpedoes like haybails. But then it had been an annoyance, now it had almost cost them their lives.

"Never again Mister Burnstein! You endangered the lives of the crew, and I will not have that on my watch."

Sam Burnstein, the Chief Engineer, was a full bred officer. A man who didn't go through the Academy because he had either grown up on a Starfleet ship, his parents had monumental influence, or his father or mother was an admiral. There were lots of them these days, as Archie had learned from his time on ESD, walking about in ragtag civilian clothes made Lieutenants angry when you bumped into them. With the number rising, Archie found it necessary to bust a few egos.

"Sir, regulation clearly states—"

"To hell with your regulation!" Yet Burnstein persisted, he was the stiffest collar Archie had ever met, and trying to make him a little less arrogant was turning out to be harder than most. "We are on a mission, one of grand importance. And every step of the way you have hindered this ship." Archie had decided to reprimand the man on the bridge, so to increase Burnstein's awareness of his foul up. "I'm starting to think that you want this ship destroyed." Archie said, closing the difference and talking in a lower tone, yet still just as harsh. "I wonder what people would think when they heard that Lieutenant Junior Grade Sam Curt Burnstein had been court martialed for attempting to jeopardize the safety of his ship."

Archie didn't seem to be getting through to the man. He decided for a different approach. Rising from his command chair, he paced around behind the engineer and looked out the viewscreen. "Or I could just bust you down to Ensign." Although not looking at Burnstein, he detected that his attitude changed immensly. "What would people think? Court-martial, that's one, but demotion." he rounded on Burnstein. "That's like being stabbed in the back by your own parents."

If Burnstein's eyes had gotten any larger they would have popped. "Sir I highly protest—"

"Your protest is noted soldier, now get back to your and boost our engines with that decalithium." Archie brought his voice up above the engineer's.

Burnstein looked as though he would protest, he obviously thought better of it and went to the left access door, which was the turbolift off the bridge. Before he entered Archie stopped him. "We will discuss this more when we complete our mission."

"Yes sir." Burnstein said, and entered the turbolift.

Archie sat back down and took a breath. Charley turned away from his console, stood, and leaned against the railing that extended around half of the bridge. "What a prick, you'd think a man had enough sense to know when not to shut down the warp engines."

Kennealy had been standing near left access. She tried to reprimand the meteorologist, but Archie didn't pay them any attention. Burnstein had shutdown the engines right as they were about to get decalithium from around Lackey III, except he shut them down and broke silent running. Archie had intended to get the ore without being noticed, but instead he had to take on two Gorn frigates and bloody great cruiser. When he had heard that Burnstein had been trying to do a routine check of the warp core he all but grabbed his rifle and shot the man. He intended to have a long and loud discussion with the man, maybe even put it on the shipwide announcement system.

"Captain, two minutes to the Paulson Nebula, we'll need to go to silent running in one." Crewman Todd swung his chair around to make his report.

Archie sighed, a lot of good it would do now, he thought. "Miss Kennealy, order silent running to all decks, if you would to go down and increase power with the decalithium yourself." Archie paused. "I think it is warranted that you also manage the silent running from that location as well, Mister Ruzngu will fill in for you at the weapons station."

Kennealy understood fully, she nodded and left the bridge through left access after ordering them to silent running.

It took a few minutes to get the ship ready, Archie ordered Todd to hold off from entering the nebula, but soon they were running silent and on impulse power. They had shut the ship's inertial dampeners off so they could run the impulse engines for several seconds then shut them off. Several minutes after entering the nebula they began extensive scans.

When Archie had accepted Kennealy's plan to scan the Paulson Nebula, he had not realized just how slow it would be. Running silently included one major factor, turning most scanners off, especially longer range ones. Many ships could detect when they were being scanned, the Klingons were no exception. Archie recalled a certain event where a _Galaxy_ -class had scanned a type of anomaly on the hull of a Bird-of-Prey. Later the captain had seen it as an attack and had almost destroyed the ship if not for the quick reaction of an officer who had been placed aboard the Klingon vessel as an exchange officer.

After the first hour of scanning, Archie had left the bridge and paced his office for half an hour. He went back on later to find that Charley had left to go to the main sciences lab where he was working with the sensor crews.

He found Charley toiling away at his PADD while ten or more crew trained on the sensor panels worked. It was a variety of people from one Cardassian to a Benzite who kept looking over other's shoulders. Charley noticed Archie in the doorway and waved him in.

"It's taking longer than expected," he reported, "the electricity in the nebula is messing up our sensors."

Archie asked if there was any progress. Charley sighed. "Well, since we were sent here there are two possibilities of what we'd be looking for, either some kind of subspace anomaly, wormhole, or a spacestation of some kind." he led Archie over to his small office and took a seat. "That implies that we search for high density object, asteroids or played-out mines. Something that can hold a station." he sighed again. "It's just this cloud and the silent running, we can hardly scan much farther than the earth to the moon, which is far, but this nebula is massive, and it could take the rest of the day to scan it."

Archie thought for a second, his true intention had been to ask Charley if he had detected any activity in the nebula. "What about other ships?"

Charley thought for a second and worked on his PADD. "We have picked up a few particle trails, but nothing to suggest such as Klingons." he looked into the distance. "However we do have an advantage, as much as we don't want to be detected, neither do the Klingons, which means they can't use long range scanners."

It seemed logical, it sparked Archie's curiosity. "Which means, if they were to detect us, we'd either have to be right on top of each other or they'd have to drop out of cloak."

Charley nodded. "In a sense yes." he seemed to get an idea. "I'm not sure if this nebula is ever used for a space route, but some freighters are bound to have traveled through here." Archie could tell that he was implying that something could be found in any logs that existed. "I'd check the logs myself sir, but I'm busy processing data from our scans." there was bleep on his PADD and he stood. "Excuse me sir," he stepped out of the office. "Desmond! Focus a few more scans on angle 321, compensate for distance covered. . ."

Archie sighed and stood, he left without being noticed and decided to look up on engineering.

Upon entering the room he was encountered by Lieutenant Burnstein, who opened his mouth to speak. "Act like you're dead Lieutenant, I'm not here to speak with you." he walked over to where Kennealy toiled at her console. "Engine status?" he asked, leaning against the door next to the small office she was using as a control room.

"Nominal," Kennealy said, Archie detected a hint of resignation in her voice. "if only there were some way to enhance the sensors. Something to speed us up." She had a cup of coffee beside her, she sipped it and didn't look up from the console.

Archie looked at the other crewmen toiling at their posts. "I was just in at Sciences, Charley and I think that we may have trouble with Klingons." Kennealy huffed, she wasn't impressed by the comment. "More than just a few popping out and trying to shoot us, I'm going to go look into any logs pertaining to ship traffic through here. Meanwhile I want you to try and come up with a way of detecting any traps that might be laying around."

Kennealy looked up. "Like?"

Archie thought for a minute, the Klingons were warlike, so a non-lethal trap was out of the question. However, to avoid detection they might look for something other than simply powering disruptors and shooting transports apart. "Maybe something like a mine, maybe look for tight field of concentrated metals. I'll see what I can dig up from the logs."

"Understood." Kennealy sipped her coffee again and looked back to the console.

Archie paused, here was a smart woman, his first officer nonetheless, and he was treating her like an engineer. He considered asking her opinion, by then it was too late. Archie turned and walked back out of engineering. Burnstein was standing near the door. "You can come back from the dead Lieutenant, but I'm not talking to you now." he went through the door with a smirk at the look on Burnstein's face.

Half an hour later, Archie's assumption was looking more and more valid. He had looked over logs and found that some slower freighters had recently been using the Paulson Nebula to hide them from Gorn, Orions, and Klingons in the surrounding sectors, in the past six months twelve ships had been damaged or found abandoned, all had traces of photon detonations, compliant with Klingon mine technology. Archie contacted Engineering and was speaking with Kennealy when they were interrupted by a Yellow Alert. It took him less than five seconds to get on the bridge. Ruzngu, in the First Officer's chair, stood.

"What's going on?"

Ruzngu made his report. "We have run through a type of detection grid Captain, it alerted a number of mines and we have been lucky to avoid them." the old Saurian swallowed. "The observers have also spotted a ship, Klingon design, approaching to investigate."

Archie swore. "Lieutenant Kennealy to the bridge."

Kennealy was there in a matter of seconds, made possible by the size of the ship. Archie didn't say a word but motioned her to her weapons station. She sat and touched the panel. "Weapon systems coming online."

The ship suddenly shook very violently. "Stray mine!" Klien reported. "Minor damage to the outer hull, nothing serious."

Sakup, fully trained as a sensors officer, was taking Charley's place while he was down in Sciences. "Klingon ship has increased speed, I'm detecting her weapons systems coming online."

Archie couldn't stop his face from twisting in response, once again their covert operation was compromised. "Drop silent running, shields up, Red Alert."

The alarm klaxon blared and lighting around the bridge flashed red. Archie set his jaw and stared at the image of the Klingon ship, closing in with disturbed dust particles marking its path. He looked at Kennealy. "Sherryl." he said quietly. Many heads turned halfway at his use of Kennealy's last name, yet only Kennealy herself turned to fully look.

"Sir?" she asked.

Archie didn't like the decision, but he had eighty lives to worry about. "Don't let them get off a shot."

Kennealy nodded and turned back to her panel, setting in calculations. Most ships could detect when weapons had been locked on to them, more advanced ones the precise target. To the Klingons _Kolibri_ would hopefully look like she was taking up a defensive posture. She finished her work. "I'm ready Commander."

Archie swallowed his regrets. "Fire."

Blue streams reached out to the Klingon ship, a Bird-of-Prey, and slammed against the shields. The ship kept coming as more beams cut at it. Three torpedoes locked on and were fired, they had the upper hand and Archie watched as there was bright flash.

"Torpedo penetrated, we blew through her starboard stabilizer." Kennealy said.

Milo huffed. "We hit something important, she's powered down her weapons and is breaking off her attack."

Kennealy had stopped firing, she looked back at Archie. "No complications Lieutenant." Archie said.

The woman turned back and the weapons started firing again. Ruzngu had been standing near left access, he stepped into the pit and sat in the First Officer's seat. "Archie, we've got a opportunity." he said quietly.

Realization dawned on Archie. "Helm, head back along our previous course, cease firing, reengage silent running!" He looked back at Ruzngu. "Good thinking, I'm glad you're on our bridge."

Ruzngu had spent some time studying strategy while _Kolibri_ was being refitted, he had learned something useful from it. Kennealy secured her station and stood at the edge of the pit, next to left access.

"Mind if I ask what this is all about?" she said, crossing her arms." she inquired.

"We are back at silent running." Milo informed the bridge.

Archie looked at Kennealy then Milo. "Very well. Sakup, have Charley report to the bridge." he looked at Todd's back. "Turn us ninety degrees starboard of our course, shut down engines and let us drift." Todd seemed to be apprehensive of the order, but he made the correction anyway. Archie shifted his gaze back to Lieutenant Kennealy. "Elementary really, we've raised a disturbance, naturally, if we'd destroyed the ship, the Klingons would've assumed we're a ship-o-war—I may use such a term." Archie stood and clasped his hands together, staring out the screen. "Since we appeared to get a lucky shot, and were quick to end the fight, they might've thought we're here on a research mission. So there is little cause for concern currently, if we had destroyed it they would be at high alert and be wary for us or more ships."

Right access opened and Charley stepped unto the bridge. "Looks like there was some excitement." he commented.

Archie sat back down—Ruzngu moved so Kennealy could take her seat—and motioned for Charley to make his report. "I need to know if you have found anything of importance and if we should stay in this area any longer."

Charley nodded rapidly, he stepped to the console that Ruzngu used for sensors and pressed several buttons. The screen changed to a tactical view and four objects lit up, all were a good thirty minutes on away. "We've narrowed our search down, any signal powerful enough to punch through this nebula has to be set either on a massive ship, or a station. Since we haven't detected any ships that large, we started searching for asteroids and old stations."

Archie interrupted. "Skip to the point Charley."

"We've narrowed it down to two objects." The screen focused on two objects relatively close together. "One is a 22nd century satellite, the other an asteroid that is most likely our target."

Charley was about to go into one long and annoying explanation. Archie stood and addressed Todd. "Lay in a course Crewman, best possible speed."


	61. Episode 5: Part 7

**Part 7**

 **(Captain's Log: Stardate 86234.3)**

 **We have pinpointed the position of a Klingon listening post in the Paulson Nebula, while we are approaching it with the utmost caution, the Klingon ships in the nebula have gone to red alert after we encountered another ship less than an hour ago.**

Archie looked intently at the disturbed clouds of dust as Klingon ships patrolled around the small asteroid that was their target; the senior staff was doing the same as they sat in the briefing room.

"Six ships?" Archie inquired, to no one in particular.

"Aye sir, one of them is a D7, the rest are Bird-of-Preys." Ruzngu responded, he was old, so it was a miracle he even heard the comment.

"There's also a field of concentrated metals around the asteroid; a minefield to be precise." Charley was messing with his pen, disassembling then reassembling it constantly.

Both Sam and the security chief were sitting silently at the end of the table. Archie continued to bite his cheek as he stared at the targets, he finally swung his chair around and faced the group.

"I'd say we have no choice, Lackey is Federation space. And even if we are outnumbered, we can't leave them hanging around."

The Betazoid spoke up. "I agree sir, with the fleet tied up with repairs, there's little guarantee that we'll be able to get a task group here before the Klingons figure out we're on them and get away."

Archie hadn't been thinking about the fleet, which was still undergoing repairs after the battle for Vega, or supporting Marine operations on the Borg occupied planets. "Indeed." he looked at the officers. "However, we're outnumbered, which means a slugging match is out of the question." he stood and looked out the windows into the orange mist of the Paulson Nebula. "I've not made this clear in my time as commander, but I'm not sending anyone somewhere that I won't go."

The security chief read Archie's thoughts. "Sir, I strongly advise against that."

Archie looked at her. "I'm not surprised, but you may not understand my position on the matter." He looked back out into the nebula. "Not after we raised the _Kolibri_." The woman attempted again to object. "Not in your lifetime Lieutenant, I will lead the away team down to the station." he looked at Kennealy. "We will need a tactical interlude for this operation, during which the good Lieutenant will command the ship."

"But first we need that interlude sir." Kennealy stated.

Archie sat down and keyed the controls to bring up a hologram of the asteroid they were less than a hundred kilometers from. "Six ships, five of the older B'rel variant, and a D7. How about a simple distraction?" Archie looked at Charley.

The man stopped playing with his ink pen for a second and stared at the hologram. "Maybe if we loaded a probe up with a ship's transponder and tossed it off about ninety degree from the asteroid it would work, only for so long though."

"Estimate."

"Well if it gets far enough away, maybe a minute or two?" Charley's estimation wasn't a hopeful one.

Kennealy spoke up. "If we can buy enough time, we'll get in close and drop silent running long enough to let you off. Picking you up may be harder, as soon as we get close they could spot us and activate the minefield. Worst of all sir, you could be marooned on that station, and they'd be able to beam as many warriors down as they wanted."

Archie humored the woman. "But if you continued to distract them," he was hinting something a little more violent than sensor probes, "you can keep them off us long enough to get in and lay in some spatial charges."

Kennealy nodded. "We'll give you as much time as you need Herr Capitan." The woman's strong German accent had come out in the lines.

Archie felt a grin split his face. "Good; Charley: make the necessary arrangements, you have five minutes. Lieutenant Dro, assemble a team with spatial charges and meet me in the transporter room one in seven minutes. This meeting is adjourned."

The senior officers quickly dispersed to their different duties, Archie himself quick-marched down to his quarters where he took his rifle from it's rack. He ordered the replicator to create two extra power packs for it; he changed into his dull yellow Operations jacket, the same color the entire away team would wear. By the time he reached the transporter room Charley had reported the probe launched, and Dro and her team, composed of two Bolian sappers—they were both wearing the kit of combat engineers on their backs—Dro herself, and George Silva. The weapons were fairly dispersed, one Bolian had a Klingon rifle, while the other carried a standard Starfleet weapon, and Silva with a Compression Phaser. If the Klingons didn't capture or get a good look at them, they would think they were being attacked by a group of pirates; Archie didn't mind if that was the case, he was anxious to be off.

The away team stepped unto the pad and waited. Archie tapped his combadge. "Sumner to bridge, we're in position. We will wait for your mark."

There was a pause. "In position Herr Hauptmann, you are clear to beam to the station."

Archie frowned at the transporter chief. "Have a lock?"

"Not the best, but I'll put you in a cargo bay at the very edge of the listening post." he said.

Archie stepped unto the pad. "Energize." he body tingled and he was blinded by a bright blue light.

The feeling of being transported lasted only a second or two, the blindness left and revealed the distinct red interior of Klingon design. However, they weren't in a cargo bay.

Archie swung his gun up and snapped a shot from his hip, it caught the Klingon in front of him in the chest and tossed him against the wall of the L in the hallway ahead of them. Lieutenant Dro tackled Archie at almost the same moment and sprayed fire at two Klingons coming around the corner. Dro rolled off and Archie rolled opposite, the corridor filled with fire coming from both directions. It was a tribute to the Klingon that their walls were more textured than those of a Federation ship. With the help of small stoops in the wall the whole team survived to clear the hall.

Before anything was said, Archie ordered them to go the opposite direction of the L. They finally ran into a dead in next to a generator room. The two Klingons outside barely had time to draw their pistols before they were downed by the two Bolians. They secured the generator room and, like the rest of the group, sat down to catch their breath.

Archie was sitting with his back to the generator room, rifle casually aimed down the wall. Silva and Dro were against the wall opposite, ready to whip around the corner and open fire.

"If I were any other man, I'd shoot a transporter chief." Archie wiped his head with his left arm; he proceeded to pat the smoldering section of the sleeve that had taken a glancing blow. Looking about, the two officers before him both had burn marks on their uniforms.

Dro laughed. "When I was at the Academy we use to argue about the effectiveness of the energy panels."

Archie realized that she had read his mind. "Oh really?"

She smiled. "Looks like they were right." she broke into a chuckle, which spread to Silva and Archie.

The Bolian with the Klingon rifle crouched and ran to the wall that Silva was hiding behind, she peeked out then looked at Archie. "This is the main generator room, placing a charge or two here will send cut their power, but I wouldn't put it past them to have a backup or two."

"Place a charge here, we'll split up and place a few on structural supports." Archie spied a console to his left, down a depression built to help in defending the hallway. "Dro, check out that console and get what you can." he pulled himself up and took her place watching the hallway.

The Bolian sprinted back into the room and went about helping the other set a spatial charge up. Dro worked at the console for twenty seconds before she lifted her rifle and stepped back to where she had been before. "It's not a large base, we're in one of four rooms. If we go back to the fourway and turn right to the L turn, we'll be in the control room." Archie asked about the size of the base. "It's not large, just a flat bottomed block of tritanium beamed into a rock, there is little armor, and even less support. We can set a charge in the auxiliary generator room, and a few in the control room, and maybe fire a few torpedoes into the weaker regions of the asteroid and they'll have no reason to come back here."

The two Bolian finished their work. Archie pointed to the man—who carried the Starfleet issue rifle. "You and Dro go to the auxiliary generator room; me, Silva, and her" he pointed to the woman "will take the control room and plant some charges in there. Figuring from the size of this base we've killed most of the crew, but keep your guard up and watch out for support troops beaming in."

The group nodded, Silva perked up and looked down the hall. "Here comes someone."

A head poked around the corner. "Suppressing fire!" Archie cried and dropped to the deck with the others sprayed the corner with fire. He slowly crawled closer, in a tactic that had been tested in the early years of the 25th century until he was just beside the corner, they stopped firing as soon as he was in position, and as the Klingon attempted to return fire he shot, from his prone position, straight up into her chest.

Archie cleared the corner and ordered the away team up, without a word they moved out, past the body of the dead woman, to the junction. Archie, Silva and the woman sapper turned right towards the L, while Dro and the male went left.

They were almost around the L when the Klingons opened fire.

Kennealy was confident that the young human could control the weapons, she wasn't confident that he could control them under fire. It turned out that their distraction on lasted a couple of minutes, and that it really hadn't fooled them one bit. They were everywhere now, dozens upon dozens of Bird-of-preys and that one D7 circling with full scanners, stealth thrown to the wind. Kennealy had backed off to four hundred kilometers. The boy, there was little else to call him, was as nervous as the rest of them, except he hadn't gone through years of training, in fact he probably had less than twenty hours of operation—it had just so happened that the secondary fire controller had come down sick a week ago and was unavailable to fill in.

Experienced or not, if it came to a good shooting match, Kennealy would order the old Saurian to take the conn and man the weapons herself. And if it did come to a shooting match, the old Saurian might follow Sumner's orders and turn tail.

"Enemy Bird-of-prey at 251 degrees, mark 25." Charley stated.

"Standard procedure, take us perpendicular to their course crewman." After all her years as an officer and NCO, Sherryl still wondered why officers gave that order. It would save them the time if they just would realize that a good crew, or person leading the crew in their absence, would stay until they met their _das sterben_. Which Sherryl thought to be a very romantic way to go; she had decided long ago that she would go out on a starship, whether she be in her forties or in her eighties, and she thought fighting the Klingons would be a good enough way.

Sherryl was sure that the Klingons had a nice side to them, she had even had the pleasure of meeting one at the Academy, but if she saw one of their distinct green and brown ships, she knew it didn't mean to come over and have some bratwurst without first killing or capturing the entire crew. Her dislike went way back to the time when Kadek first started his rampage in Federation space. It still festered within her bones as she read each report concerning attacks; tended to damaged ships at Utopia Planitia Shipyards. It had become worse when she spoke with captains and crew about the damaged hulls and learned that they had been jumped on missions not involving the eradication of Kadek's armada. She had heard that two ships, brand new crews, had been jumped back in January. If not for the erosion of time, Sherryl would have cried over the casualty lists.

The collision alarm blared. Sherryl was about to cry out when she was knocked off her feet as the deck seemed to jump aft. She landed flat on her face, her nose spared only by her arms reaching out to stop the rising deck, and looked at the viewscreen from her prone position behind Todd's chair. A Bird-of-prey had materialized in front of them, and was quickly backing off, as well as traveling perpendicular to their course. Their perspective was looking down at the ship, with her traveling 'up' on the main viewscreen.

Sherryl jumped to her feet. "Damage report."

Milo piped up. "Nothing significant, minor buckling forward, some reports of injuries." She spun around. "We just gave her a love tap."

Sherryl looked at Ruzngu. "Tactical?"

Ruzngu checked his panels to port. He looked back. "Klingons inbound, weapons ready."

"Klingons are hailing us sir!" Charley spoke up.

Sherryl made a split second decision. "Ignore them. Drop silent running, weapons at maximum!" She took her seat, then stood and crouched to Todd's left. "I've never conned a ship in combat before Crewman, do you know what's you're doing?"

Todd looked at her, then at his panel. He raised a hand and let it hover over a red key to the right of his console. "I've programmed this to allow the maneuvering thrusters to operate outside the inertial dampeners ability to compensate. I'd advise everyone to fasten their harnesses, it could be a rough ride." he gave her a very toothy, Klingon, grin.

Sherryl smiled. "All hands, secure for turbulence." She said, standing and doing so in the command chair.

"Enemy at three hundred kilometers, optimal firing range in five seconds." Ruzngu reported.

"All hands have reported secured for turbulence." Charley said.

Sherryl could see the Klingon ships, bristling with weapons to destroy this tiny science vessel on a cloak and dagger mission. She hoped Archie would understand if she stole his ship to seek a little glory. Her native language was an amazing one, complex as well. And Sherryl tended to revert to it.

"Vorstoßen!"


	62. Episode 5: Part 8

**Part 8**

Blue fire lashed from the bow phaser arrays and drew blinding lines across the shields and hulls of the attacking Bird-of-preys. _Kolibri_ was outnumbered, almost ten to one in the kindest count of approaching Klingons, and slowly they were being backed away from the station and towards part of the nebula that was filled with disturbances. Instead of simply overwhelming them, the Klingons had decided to keep their distance after Todd and Sherryl, who had taken the weapons console since Todd was better at conning the ship, had feigned being disabled and heavily damaged three Bird-of-preys and destroyed two with manually aimed weapons.

"Here he comes again." Ruzngu said. "He" was a particularly aggressive ship that preferred to try and flank them.

The ship, Sherryl had it designated on her panel as Alpha-8, was flying in from what ship sensors called West (270 degrees/Port/9 o'clock), relative to their current orientation. Sherryl targeted it's engines and fired. Once again, _Kolibri's_ powerful weapons heavily impacted the Bird-of-prey's shields. Sherryl read a significant drop in stead in response to force of the shot, but no real damage. She set the weapons to half second pulse and peppered the ship several times. Alpha-8 broke off when it's attack pattern was ruined by a sliding maneuver that placed _Kolibri_ far enough off his path to break his momentum and accuracy.

"Well done Todd." for two minutes the going was slow, one Bird-of-prey tried to close to forty kilometers but flip around and away he caught wind of Sherryl targeting him.

The crewman who had previously been working the weapons control panel touched the communication button to the engine room when it chirped. Sherryl had let him sit in the command chair since the ship had been bucking like a coughing cow when she took his seat, but he conversed with a voice on the other side of the line for several seconds before closing it.

"Lieutenant?" he said, strangely sure of himself. "Mister Sumner says his engines are too hot, Dan Klien disagrees."

Sherryl smiled. "Carry on, Crewman." Sumner could complain all her wanted, Dan could probably beat him in practical engineering without breaking into a sweat. Sumner was big in the theoretical and the classroom, at least on a ship as small as Kolibri.

Sherryl took the lull in the fighting to do a short diagnostic of the weapons, some of the port arrays were getting too hot. A little extra coolant meant for the torpedo tubes, which Sherryl hadn't used that much, solved the problem and put them back in the green.

The ship shook, not from a sudden maneuver, but this was a constant shaking caused by something else. "We've entered the disturbance zone—" Charley was interrupted by another series of tremors. "I'd suggest getting out of here before the hull goes kaput."

Sherryl looked at Todd, who was looking at the viewscreen. "Crewman?"

He looked at her. "No target locks, the Klingons can't lock unto us in this field." he looked back at the objects on the screen.

"If we stay here we'll be torn apart." Sherryl stated; while she was in command, she was willing to listen to Todd. "What are you on to?"

Todd worked quickly at his panel. "There's an area of low disturbance on the edge of this field, if we can simply maneuver to throw their manual gunning off, we can wait for the Commander to signal."

Sherryl quickly weighed their options, they could go back to where the Klingons could lock their weapons on them, run and leave Sumner to his death, or they could take a risk and listen to Todd.

"Looks like the Klingons may know our plan." Charley said. "I'm reading three Bird-of-preys off starboard, swinging in at high speed.

Sherryl turned back to her panel, the interference was blocking the targeting computer. It was good and bad, good for _Kolibri_ because she was maneuverable with Todd's modifications, bad because the Klingons could aim their weapons just as manually as Sherryl, and Klingon ships were flying weapons, built with forward facing weapons that even manually aimed would give the DC crews a hard time.

"One hundred kilometers." Charley reported.

Sherryl stood and walked over to the Captain's Chair, she sat and looked out the viewscreen. "Charley, try and contact the captain, tell him we can't hold and will pick him up in. . .five minutes." Charley worked at his console, talking lowly to it as he transmitted to Commander Sumner. "Helm, lay in course for the asteroid, plot the fastest course that will take us within transporter range of the asteroid, then out of the nebula. Milo, inform Mister Burnstein we'll be needing every bit of power he can put into the impulse engines."

Sherryl looked out, the Klingons were spread out, loose and free from one another. If Todd was as good of a pilot as he had been so far, _Kolibri_ would have little trouble avoiding the ships, her only trouble would be escaping the disruptor fire long enough to beam Sumner and his men aboard. Sherryl only helped the Texan was alive to beam aboard.

Archie, Silva, and the Bolian woman had easily taken the L, and just as easily blown the door to the command center. What was hard was fighting their way through it. Six Klingons held down the center, two lay dead behind the crates they had sat near the door, another, a sergeant, on a platform overlooking the whole room. The final three fired at the team from different positions; before they had blown the doors the Bolian had informed Archie that they could best retrieve some of the information from the Klingons computer banks, _if_ they didn't damage them while capturing the control center.

Archie winced as the sting in his side—made by a near miss by a Klingon who was on the opposite side of the platform, firing under it, over the pit that had the primary computer banks in it—and peeked out, the firing had stopped for a second. He could see the Klingon, more of a marksman Archie could vouch, across the computer pit, he could also see a set of containers piled chest high in the corner to his right. Perfect cover. Archie reached back and slapped the Bolian's knee, he pointed two fingers at them and made a hand signal that meant he'd cover her. She nodded and shook off her demolition kit, crouching and ready to run.

Archie made a fist and she sprinted for the location, the Klingon exposed himself to draw a bead, and Archie drew his faster. The Bolian made a leap and slid across the floor. Weapons on automatic, she sprayed the far wall, where the final two Klingons were hiding, while Silva crawled up to the computer pit and walked up to their cover. He picked a grenade from his belt and dropped over them, rolling quickly away. One Klingon tried to jump out, he was too slow.

In wake of the explosion, Archie stared over his crate. "George?"

A lone hand raised from across the room, just barely visible through the smoke. "Happy and I know it Archie." he remarked.

"Set your charges." he said to the Bolian. As she worked placing the charges near structural supports, which stood out in Klingon architecture, George and Archie worked at hacking into the computer system. Fortunately, the Klingons hadn't had time to shut the computer down, so it was simply a matter of finding the right files, and trying to comprehend the Klingon language.

When the Bolian finished, placing the last of her charges on the ceiling using a magnetic plate, she worked for a moment on the platform, finally coming down with her kit slung over one shoulder. "Turns out they didn't manage to send a signal to anyone, shortly after we beamed over _Kolibri_ was exposed and the station cut off all comms with the surrounding fleet. They don't know we're here."

Archie smiled. "Good, now we need to figure out how to transmit the Kligon databanks to _Kolibri_ so we can figure out what they know, and if there are anymore listening posts in the sector."

"Stand aside." Dro walked up and drew her tricorder. She was adept when it came to computers, something required of many security chiefs, and soon had the computers linked to her tricorder. "I can transmit as soon as the _Kolibri_ gets in range."

" _Kolibri to Away Team, acknowledge."_ Charley's voice sounded from their combadges.

Archie reached for his combadge but his hand was stopped. Silva shook his head. "The Klingons don't know that we've taken this station, using our combadges will alert them to our presence, they'll know about us." He reach behind his back and pulled an object from his belt. It was one of the communicators the militia had used back on Vega IX.

Archie took it. "Never thought these would be useful again." he flipped it open and keyed it to hail on a 2280s frequency.

Sherryl heard a beep. It came again, and continued to beep; Charley looked at her, as did Ruzngu. It took Sherryl a moment to realize that it came from the small personal space in the arm of her First Officer chair. She stood and opened the hatch, in which most officers placed a phaser, and took out her 2280s communicator. She flipped it open.

"Kennealy here." she said cautiously.

"Never thought you'd pick up, Lieutenant. It seems no one knows we stormed this fine castle, and I'd like to keep it that way." Archibald Sumner was in good humor, telling by the quality of his transmission he was using a 2260s communicator.

"Go ahead sir, we'll be in transporter range in two minutes." They were avoiding most of the Klingons, thanks to Todd's amazing piloting abilities, and had feigned enough to gain a lead of almost a full minute.

There was a shuffling on the other end of the line. "Put Mister Zengilowski on." Dro said.

"Go ahead Lieutenant." Charley Zengilowski's voice came over the communicator.

"Sir, I've manged to link the computer banks to my tricorder, I'll hook up my combadge up next. I need you to contact my combadge and initiate a comms transfer, I've managed to compress the data flow enough that we can get most of it over in maybe a minute." Dro informed the man.

"Connect your combadge and I will start the transfer."

"Once we make this connection the Klingons will know we are transferring the information." Dro was concerned about having to fight off a whole war force of Klingons off while the transfer was in effect.

"No need to worry, we have a minute's lead on most of their fleet." Charley insured.

Dro took off her combadge and connected it to the tricorder. "Initiating transfer."

Charley checked his console. "Loos like we've got a minute and thirty seconds to wait." he looked at a red blip that formed near the top of his screen, he looked towards the viewscreen. "Contact, cruiser at 358-mark-0."

It was a bloody cruiser right beside the asteroid. And one of the new ones that had thousands of crew. "Away team, you're about to experience action. Might want to set up to defend the transfer."

Archie ordered Dro to a position that looked on the door from the right. "Spread out, be ready to beam up."

They took up their positions, a few seconds later three red transporter signatures appeared in the center of the area in front of the platform and computer pit. Archie squinted down his sights and fired off several quick shots. Every officer committed a number of shots, the Klingons never had a chance to draw their weapons. The next group was in the hall, this time they lasted longer, but one of the Bolians, laying prone on the platform tossed a grenade into the outside corridor. No more shots came from the hall.

Archie was focused on the door when he heard a cry, he turned to see a Klingon, great sword posed for a killing blow, towering over the Bolians. Two shots hit at once, on at the hip, another caught his head. Archie got down off his crates and ran to them, rallying Silva and Dro on him as well. Blood streamed down the leg of the woman. Archie tapped his combadge.

" _Kolibri_ , get us out of here!"

As his blindness started, he swore he felt the tickle of something passing through him during transport. As he materialized on the ship Dro was looking at him like a dead man.

"Away team onboard!" Charley reported.

Sherryl leaned forward. "Take us out of here Todd."

"Aye, aye, sir." Todd said in relief, he layed in the course and put the power behind the engines. A second later they left the cloud and took them to Warp 5. "Course set for the Sol System."

Half a minute later Archie stepped unto the bridge. "Report." he said, waving Sherryl from his chair and plopping down in it.

"Minimal damage, only a few sprains and breaks. Nothing serious. Your end sir?" even if the Commander didn't appear to be in a good mood, Sherryl would have a report to write in a couple of hours.

He raised one arm to show the burnt sleeve, the other to show a cauterized scar through a burnt jacket. "Minimal, one of the sappers took a nasty leg wound from a sword. Should be fine, if not for a limp for awhile."

Sherryl nodded. "I've set course for Earth sir, I doubt the Klingons will want to chase us there." Archie nodded. Sherryl motioned to his side. "If you want to take care of that, I'm fine with taking the bridge a little longer."

Archie winced as he stood. "Very good Lieutenant, keep her straight and safe." he turned around in the lift. "You have the bridge Lieutenant."


	63. Episode 5: Part 9 (Conclusion)

**Short ending to cap off the end of this story with a ominous ending. Kudos to the person who guesses who the 'Frank' person is.**

 **Part 9**

" **Captain's log: We have returned to the Mars Planitia Shipyards after our mission to the Paulson Nebula, while the ship undergoes repairs to her hull, I have been summoned by the commander of the shipyards."**

Archie keyed the chime and stepped into the room as soon as it opened. The broad shouldered Klingon who led and represented the shipyards on the Starfleet Council was behind his spartan desk, staring down a figure clad completely in black. At first Archie wondered if he had stumbled into a stick up, then the Klingon stood and exited the room. He didn't even acknowledge Archie's presence.

The man in black was of average height and build, with slightly larger shoulders maybe, his hair was cropped down short and was blonde. His pale skin was accented by his sickly yellow eyes. The chairs before the desk were swivel, he turned and faced Archie.

"I was called all the way from a very important mission in Klingon space to deal with you Mister Sumner." he had a nasty scar on his face. "Your performance in the Paulson Nebula was satisfactory, such so that my superiors are interested in hiring you on." he stood.

"To what?" Archie said with a fine amount of sharpness in his voice; the man was very condescending, Archie immediately took a disliking to the man.

"Well, can't tell you until you join my little. . .section, as we call it." He gave the smile of a snake.

"And what's in it for me?" Archie would never accept the assignment, but he decided lead the man on.

"Look at my face," the stranger's voice turned sharp, a hand pointed to the scar down his cheek. "I know how to read people Commander, and you're wasting my time." he went and sat in the Klingon's chair.

Archie's curiosity was sparked. "Who are you."

"A lost boy." he sat down. "A man who never has had the pleasure's you took for granted on Vega IX." Archie continued to stare at the man. "Some people call me Frank, I'm not willing to disclose other names with you." He leaned forward and propped his arms on the desk. "Commander I'm offering you a job more important than Intelligence, or the scientific missions you were promised. I'm also giving you a one way ticket, for you and your crew."

Archie walked to the swivel chairs and sat in the one on the right. "My crew?"

"We don't make this offer lightly Commander, I haven't had an off day since I started this job, not many have. We also realize that your crew has a special trait that many don't."

"And that is?" Archie felt he knew the answer.

"You have nothing to lose."

Archie stood. He had made up his mind. "Sir, I'm dearly sorry, but I've no reason to trust you, and my crew may have nothing to lose, but we've got a lot of hope." He turned to walk out the door.

"If you are referring to your lost families, I would suggest you let the dead rest in peace." Frank said.

Archie looked back at the man. "You don't know that, and neither do they."

"Hope isn't as powerful as you think Commander, they'll give up or lose themselves looking for dead bodies."

"Feel free to dictate duty to family when you have been married. Good day sir." Archie was halfway through the door when Frank tossed one final sentence at him.

"The needs of the many, outweigh the needs of the few, Commander. That's my job." The door closed and Archie heard no more of the man, in fact he intended to completely forget his encounter with this 'Frank' and try to go on and live a normal life.

"And I can't let you put your single needs before more collective needs." the man said at the closed door.


	64. Episode 6: Blood of Our Generation

**The Great Arc: Episode 6**

" **Blood of Our Generation"**

Mist hung low in the gap between the rocks, just beyond was a stand of pines, or whatever constituted a pine, the mist was just as thick there.

Gray clad soldiers came from the slop to the north of the rocks, each holding their rifle up and ready to fire. Twenty-five of them cautiously approached the tree line. At ten yards the main group stopped and hid behind rocks and fallen logs of trees long ago, while a single man walked towards the thicker mist, and slowly began to fade. When he was just barely visible by the leader of the platoon, he stopped and peered into the woods beyond. He turned and waved that it was clear. The sergeant called his seniors up close, about to task men to move out when a green bolt, from far beyond the wall of mist, hit his second-in-command square in the chest. Chaos ensued as the tree line lit up with more green bolts and the platoon responded with their own orange ones.

"Medic!" the their leader called, soon a man with a white armband with a cross in the center approached and helped two other men pull the body away.

The leader, a Chief Sergeant, swung around and aimed over his cover. At thirty meters he could see them, upright, slow, almost nonlethal, yet out for every ounce of blood in his body. He sighted down his barrel and picked out one that was a few yards behind the front line. He didn't hesitate and fired for the head. He continued to sight and fire, but their situation was deteriorating, four and flanked them and were coming down the rocks to their right, and the ones in front appeared to number in the hundreds.

"Fall back, first squadron covering fire!" five men at the rear of the group let fly all their fire, while the other nineteen split and sprinted back towards the slope. As the first two squads took the hill, they set up positions and covered the final five men as they retreated with the Chief. They held for a short time before the volleys of disruptor bolts drove them back. They didn't stop after they abandoned the hill.

Their brief retreat and firefight left the edge of the woods and the small canyon scarred with weapons fire, a number of the enemy dead, and one unfortunate soul. In the initial volley and shot had caught the scout in the stomach, a wound that killed one slowly and painfully, and thus he was left to hack and cough as the enemy collected their dead around him. He tried to pull his sidearm and take his life but he was stopped by a heavy foot landing on his arm. He struggled and tried to cry out in fear for his life.

He was stopped as the figure leaned down and pressed something against his neck, his individuality disappeared and his mind filled with the thoughts of a single collective mind. He was one of them, we are them.

Resistance is futile.


	65. Episode 6: Part 2

**By jove people I am sorry. If you are one of the four followers of this story, if you even care about it anymore, you've been waiting far too long. In my defense things were a little hectic, and I was a little lazy, during the last few months. The highlight was NaNoWriMo of course, I finished my novel this year at 50,428 (YAY!) and hopefully will have time to complete the second part of the novel next year-or find the inspiration somewhere in between.**

 **I also want apologize for the quality of this chapter, I have erased it twice and started from scratch and I still feel as though it is second rate, but then the writing for most of this fanfiction is. Once again the trouble I have is the rate at which I create things compared to the rate at which I can write. In the sense of time in this story line I have imagined (seriously) how Patrick Reddy will end his days, and about a dozen other things.**

 **P.S. I know this isn't that serious, but I just happened to wonder one night: Would a ship technically be considered an -A no matter what class it is? I ask in the context of Enterprise-A, was it simply called the A because it was another** ** _Constitution-class_** **, or because it was the second ship. I'm wondering because my plans change in the future and I would like to know whether or not a ship should be the second ship, and be called the -B, or if I should make up an excuse saying that the "current" ship is the -A. Please PM me if you have a resolution to this problem.**

 **Anyways, enjoy this mediocre part.**

 **Part 2**

 **Three weeks earlier.**

 **Captain's log: Stardate 86234.0 (March 27, 2409)**

 **Despite the need for refit,** ** _Walker_** **has been assigned to a task group meant to carry the 1** **st** **Starfleet Marine Division to the Vega System where they fight to destroy the Borg Occupation on Vega IX. Unfortunately I will have to break some important news to my Security Chief.**

"I just completed a conference with Major General Lathbury as well as Rear Admiral Grigori Yanishev and other captain's in this taskforce." Reddy said as he took his seat, he had just closed the shutters to the conference room on aft part of the section that housed the bridge. Haymore, T'Kira, Flores, Triss, and Bernhard Morris. The five were the most essential parts of the Operations division aboard the USS _Walker_. "It turns out that Lathbury has requested that at least two thousand Starfleet Security personnel land alongside his troops and secure the area he and the 1st Division are to land in. We will also be charged with protected his supply dumps and his escape route in the case that things go horribly wrong."

"Well that's encouraging." Elisa commented, she pulled her left leg over her right and slumped back in her chair.

"It is logical." T'Kira interjected. "The dubbed title of Security Personnel is testimony to our training in security and defense tactics. It would be illogical if he was to order his men to stay behind when he could draw from the experience of Starfleet personnel."

Elisa shook her head. "It's not our job, T'Kira, it's the fact that anyone would choose us." She looked around at the raised eyebrows. "Well it's not bad enough that they tear our corridors out and fill them with Marines. But you must remember that none of us bear an official Starfleet rank, we've lost too many friends and now are being used as guarddogs for the Marine Corps." she picked at a loose string along the hem of her pants. "If you ask me, it is as though we are being used in hopes of destroying this class."

She had reason, only the enlisted aboard _Walker_ were officially Starfleet personnel while every officer aboard was either considered a brevet of their ranks, or was still considered a cadet. And the assumption of their class was ominous, so far, a fifth of the Class of 2409 had been maimed or killed in the fighting since their graduation. Thinking of it gave Reddy chills.

"Unfortunately, we have little or no voice in this matter, we have already been assigned units and will be put into a single sector. We've been assigned officers from other ships as well as enlisted personnel to fill the ranks."

Triss put up a hand. "What kind of units are we looking at?" she asked.

"As of the moment, the Marines have asked that we organize our units like theirs. We will have companies of one hundred and platoons of twenty-five."

"Why am I here?" She asked.

"You've been assigned to a group of engineers who will be split across our sector. We will be doing the final planning and meetings once we've met the group we've been assigned." he looked down at his hands, resting on the top of the conference room table. "T'Kira, Haymore, and Bernie will all being going down with me."

Bernie looked across the table at Elisa. "Lucky."

Reddy smiled at the comment. "Elisa, you will be commanding the _Walker_ while we are gone and will be assisting the task force in constructing the supply chain to the offensive below."

Haymore was sitting beside Sarah Triss a little farther down the table. "Does it seem as though this is just thrown together?" She saw Reddy's look. "They tell you anything about how this plan was created?" she asked anyway.

Reddy shook his head.

"How many of the crew will be joining the forces?" T'Kira asked.

"As many Operation personnel as we can afford to remove from the ship and still have her run."

Sarah raised her hand. "I can speak with Zarva, we can do some work to reduce the amount of crew needed, route more command functions to central consoles. We won't be able to put everything in one place, but at least we can fly the ship without as many crew at their stations."

Reddy nodded. "Do that, Mister Morris I would appreciate it if you and Miss T'Vrell would assist and begin training comms and science staff to fill the bridge roles. Morris, you'll be attending the security part as a communications specialist. Any more questions?"

"What role will you play?" Elisa asked.

Reddy huffed, so far he had been given three different jobs, organizing the five hundred who form the southern sector of the Marine beachhead, collaborating with the 3rd Regiment in arming that unit, and finally, above all odds, leading the damn group until another officer could be brought in to replace him.

"Bugger all, Miss Flores, bugger all." he said. "I've been charged with equipping our group, organizing it, and above all, leading it into battle."

He could tell that pleased them, this group was particularly stubborn and were not likely to follow the orders of another officer. They had all lived through January First together, and it appeared they wanted to live through this together.

Despite their grins of approval, Reddy stood, still somber, and dismissed them. He intercepted Flores before she could leave. "I've scheduled a meeting with Colonel Watts later, I would prefer it if you would take the bridge." he yawned. "The meeting with Lathbury and Yanishev wore me out."

Elisa nodded, a broad smile on her face. "Sure thing Cap'n." she skipped away.

Reddy shook his head, collected his PADD from the table and walked towards his room. He passed crewmen and the occasional marine before he reached the crowded crew section. With three hundred marines on board, the officers and crew had been compressed into a small area on the port side stretching from the beam to the engineering spaces. All officers were forced to bunk with another officer, excluding Reddy, and the enlisted were crushed into every storeroom and access hallway they could be put in. The crew of _Walker_ had also been cut down to one hundred of primarily Operations, Security, Engineering, and Tactical. Yet still they were squeezed into a remarkably tight space. As Reddy walked through a part of hallway, several enlisted had strung up cots and had their gear sitting on the edges. They stood and paid him respect as he passed.

Reddy returned the respects and hurried on to his quarters. Once there he stripped off his jacket and flopped unto his bed, he gathered a pillow up under him. He was just beginning to doze when the door to his quarters opened. His quarters, the largest on the ship, had two small rooms. The only entrance was through the living room.

The fact that the visitor had not rung the chime told him exactly who it was.

A few seconds later T'Kira leaned around the doorway. He patted the bed beside him and she sat down.

"Well?" he asked.

T'Kira was the most curious cross between a Vulcan and a human, as Reddy knew, she was one quarter human and that brought major trouble to her ability to control emotion, and a large amount of pressure on her to decide whether to embrace human emotion, or Vulcan logic. Making the matters worse, she was now torn between her duties as an officer and having feelings towards Reddy.

Their relationship had started back the day of their graduation when Reddy had invited her into his bed due to the fact it had been only a few degrees above freezing his quarters. Ever since she had been tussling with whether she wanted to sleep with him or whether she should sleep alone.

T'Kira looked at Reddy. "Commander, I am sorry." she said sadly. "But you can not have any logical way on knowing what I am experiencing. I must tell you, that as a Vulcan I am forced to choose duty over any emotion." she sighed. "But currently I am sure whether I should choose duty of emotion. I believe my best course of action will be to follow duty until I have come to a logical conclusion or compromise."

Reddy nodded, he had been fearing she would deny him completely. "My feelings for you haven't changed, T'Kira. I will wait for your decision."

T'Kira stood and stepped to the doorway, she turned around. "May I go Commander?" she said formally.

Reddy had always been annoyed by how she insisted on calling him by his rank rather than Patrick, or Pat, or even Paddy. "Don't forget to get your uniform from the closet."

T'Kira nodded, took the few uniforms she kept in his quarters and left.

Reddy ran a hand through his hair and sighed, he decided to try and not think about the beautiful Vulcan and instead take his nap.


	66. Episode 6: Part 3

**WOOOOOO! 1000 reads. Not that that is anything much, but WOOOHOOOO!**

 **So once again we see that I am terrible when it comes to dialogue, also it can be hard to keep things continuous unless you write them all at once, something which I have failed to do so far. Please enjoy this, and I hope I can keep posting more in the following month.**

 **Part 3**

"Commander!"

Reddy turned to see Bernhard Morris running up the corridor. He was on his way to meet Colonel Watts in the port side briefing room. He stopped to let the Florida man catch up.

"I'm busy Bernie, what do you want?" He asked, aggravated at the man for interrupting his thoughts.

He paused to catch his breath. "I saw T'Kira walking around with some clothes over arms and I think she looked sad. Have any idea what that is about."

Reddy had been thinking it had been important, he turned and started to walk. "T'Kira is a quarter Vulcan, I hear that they have a much harder time dealing with emotions." he and T'Kira had managed to hide their relationship, he wasn't about to give it away.

Bernie's mouth bent down. "I've heard of them, use to be two or three in my comms class. Trust me, when they say they have emotional trouble, they do not kid."

Reddy stopped and faced the man. "I've got to meet Colonel Watts, Bernie, have you anything important to tell me?"

Bernie reached into the pockets on his pants and handed Reddy and combadge. It was the plain fronted badge they used with their Sierra Excursion uniforms.

"An excursion badge?" he asked, casting an inquiring look at Bernie.

"That's our problem. I've been looking, and according to records, the biggest problem we have ever experienced in our time fighting the Borg has been communications. Also, our combadges use a ship as a radio tower, meaning that communications are delayed by at least a second."

Reddy did not offer him an easy audience.

"The problem is really our independence. If, say, all Federation ships were cleared from orbit, or a type of storm came through and scrambled communications from the ground to space, we'd be screwed, and if we can't deploy reinforcements to a certain area due to lack of communication, we might as well turn our selves over to the Borg first chance we get."

Reddy was becoming impatient. "What do you suggest Bernie?"

Bernie had something clipped to the back of his pants, he took it and handed it to him. "It's the communication device the Marines use, I spoke with the quartermaster for the group we have on board and he said he could order enough for our landing parties. All we have to do is teach our men how to use them." Reddy fiddled with the bulky object. "It can transmit as clear as our combadges, and almost as far. We will have to carry some heavy duty units to reach the ships in orbit, and maybe a few within smaller units, but they are both more hardy, and operate using an older form of transmission, meaning it may take the Borg awhile before they figure out what we are using."

Reddy examined the small device then handed it back to Bernie. "Get with T'Kira and Haymore, they are both charged with putting together our equipment so we can brief the entire section we'll be going down with. Or at least all it's officers."

Bernie took the device and tossed it from hand to hand. "I can't get over what Sarah said earlier."

Sarah Triss had followed Reddy over when he had boarded the _Walker_ on the First and now served as their Operations Officer. She was a brilliant Englishwoman but had a tendency to bad mouth any type of operation planned or constructed. She most commonly opposed the recent operations against the Borg in the Vega System.

"We don't have much choice Bernie. I find it would just be best if we try and do our jobs, and not think much of it." He reached out and patted the man's shoulder. "We lived through fighting them in space, we can fight them on the ground just as easily."

Bernie nodded and backed away. "Thank you sir."

Reddy continued on, he was just a few meters from the door to the briefing room. He paused for a moment and entered the room.

Colonel Milly Watts, 3rd Regiment of the 1st Marine Division, was a short woman from New Orleans, her officers were all human, or acted as though they had grown up in the Southeastern United States. Although only measuring five and half feet, and graying from her years, Reddy was quite frightened by the fact that she could probably use Reddy, and most of his crew, for lifting weights. She also had the looks of a demented animal and was absolutely terrifying until a person knew her. Thankfully Reddy had grown accustom to the woman the first day her troops had been on board, he just wasn't use to the attitude of marines yet.

"Pardon me for being late, one of my officers was discussing using your communications equipment in place of our own."

Watts was sitting at the table with two of her officers, another one was staring out at the passing stars. She gazed at Reddy with her soft brown, yet piercing as if they were the color of ice, eyes. "No problem, I spoke with my quartermaster and he told about your Mister. . ." she thought for a second.

"Morris, ma'am, Bernhard Morris."

"Yes that's it, please sit Commander Reddy, we have much to discuss." she waved him to a seat across the table from her.

Reddy sat. "Ma'am, for the sake that there are no misconceptions, I'm not fully commissioned, I would like it if you would refer to me as Mister Reddy."

"Fine, Mister Reddy." she said in a matter-of-fact way. "I am quite positive you have been given a run through of our strategy so I will move on to more important matters for the moment." she lifted her PADD and clicked about it, nodding to the female officer on her right.

"Mister Reddy, our current problem will be the recognition between different units, we all are aware of the different style of insignia that Starfleet and the Marines wear." she placed a large case on the table, opened it and slid it across to him. "Inside this is enough Marine insignia for the officers in your section, they are consistent with the ranks you wear, so please place the correct rank on. Also, you units should make it policy to know the ranks of the Marines as much as we will make it ours." she spoke as though she was speaking to a cadet, or as if Reddy was a diplomat and she an ill-mannered guide.

Reddy took a box from the case, it happened to have "Lieutenant Commander" inscribed on it, with "Major" underneath. He opened the box to see two golden clusters of oak leaves, he took them out and examined the pins.

The second marine sitting, this one appeared to be part human, part something else judging by his almost transparent skin, began to speak. "We also would insist that you stay clear of Marine units and allow us to draw supplies as needed, it is imperative that supplies reach our units as quickly as possible, and we cannot waste time with Starfleet's insistence that all transactions be monitored and recorded."

Before Reddy could respond the final officer turned away from the passing stars. "I know this may come as a shock Lieutenant Commander, but your units will be going in first. It has been decided that the security personnel can be delivered more quickly, and efficiently in their smaller groups than our entire division. This is not caused by any incompetence on our part, but rather the minimalistic nature of your units. I'm sure you will be able to pass this change of plans throughout your ranks."

Reddy was about to speak again when Watts cut him off. "If that is all, you three may leave."

The three officers stood and left the room, he noticed that each wore a rank equivalent to his but had few other decorations on their uniforms.

"What the hell was that?" he asked Watts when the door closed behind them.

Watts dropped her PADD on the table and drew a hand across her head. "Idiots. The stuck up idiots whose parents funded the Marine Corps and then were given important positions as a result." she chuckled at Reddy's surprise. "Oh corruption is in more than just Starfleet, I would doubt you could find a body of citizens who are not upset with the government over them. Those three are an example, mainly because the Marine Corps is lead not by Lathbury, but the damn people who funded us in exchange for private armies and say in strategy. Which they have no experience in."

"Unfortunately," she continued. "We cannot change the attack schedules, the only Marine units going before you will be trailblazers who set up the landing zones. After that comes Starfleet and then the whole of the Marine Corps."

"I feel as though this will be a blunder." Reddy commented blandly.

Watts agreed. "And by God will it be terrible. At first I was fine with the plan, we would put down the whole division in an area where we could attack where we believe the Collective to be without any interference. Once we had neutralized the Collective it would have been simple as making sure all the bodies got burned and the ecosystem was sustained, something Starfleet could concern themselves with. Then the contractors came in and threatened to cut our funding, which since Starfleet needs us to do the job, the pressured Lathbury into supporting the change of plans and now it's all buggered to hell." she sighed and sat back. "Instead of landing the division in traditional Marine style, we get to land like an Army, organize, and start moving." she leaned forward and tapped her pointer finger against the table. "You can bet I won't let that happen. I'm glad I can consult with you on this, but as soon as my boots hit the ground, I'm pushing up to your defense line and beyond."

"Speaking of my line," Reddy interrupted. "There are several points which I feel concerned about. Most of the area can be covered with three main defense lines, the problem is some of the rock faces surrounding, I may be able to set up remote scout posts, but if the Borg flank us up a cliff, it could mean our end."

"I plan on leaving one company behind to assist you, Mister Reddy, also we can give you a few of our anti-personnel mines to deal with any flankers. The one matter will be the ability of your men, I am told that the 2nd Division is undergoing it's final stages of combat training and will be following us up two weeks after we land. I'm hoping they can hold that long."

Reddy thought, they had had trouble holding against Klingon boarding parties, so maybe in the instance as fighters they were out. "In the manner of holding against the elements, or holding against the attackers?"

"We'll be ahead of you, Pat, no need to worry about enemies unless things go worse than I expect." Watts stated cheerfully. "What about holding in the elements?"

"We have all undergone some form of survival training, you should be able to count on us." Reddy actually had little faith, but showing it in front of Watts would be a very bad idea.

Watts stared at him for several seconds. "You'll be shipped over to the _Musashi_ and ship out from there alongside the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Regiments once we arrive in orbit. The landing date is on the thirtieth, that'll give you two days to coordinate your forces."

Reddy bit his lip. "How long will it take for my crew to get down?"

"Ask the captain of the _Musashi_ when we get there." Watts said as she began to gather up her work.

Reddy noticed that the briefing was over, he closed the brief case and stood. "Good day, Colonel." bowed and began to leave.

Just as he was exiting he paused and turned back. "If a Galaxy can hold over fifteen thousand people, why the hell did we have to bring three hundred of you with us?"

Watts stopped dead in her tracks, she had just stood and was pushing her chair up. "By God if I knew I would tell you Paddy." she looked blankly at the table. "I guess they wanted your crew here with us instead of having _Musashi_ haul them, maybe extra ships. That is something you will have to take up with either Starfleet or the Marines." she finished pushing the chair in and walked around the table. "I'll see you tomorrow, Mister Reddy." she held out a hand.

Reddy shook the hand, slightly pained by the force with which she gripped. "Good evening ma'am." they exited the room and went their separate ways.


	67. Episode 6: Part 4

**Probably the only decent part in awhile, also, twice as long. HUZZAH!**

 **Part 4**

The next day became hectic, and shortly thereafter, hell. Also, Zarva woke Reddy halfway through the night to tell him the heaters had to be shut down again, leaving it to be a freezing hell, which was something Reddy was about through with. Late in the afternoon he had told the people going over to _Musashi_ to prepare their kits for movement, next that equipment had to be compiled and stored to be moved over to _Musashi_ , finally Reddy had to speak with the captain of _Musashi_ and figure out how to get his crew a place to sleep. As it turned out, they had little to look forward to, five hundred of the two thousand Starfleet personnel who would be leading the charge would be placed in the engine section in a combination of storerooms and access hallways. Alongside, he also learned that getting down to the planet would be harder than expected, yet the captain refused to speak further with him and instead claimed to have more important duties.

Reddy had been quite angry at the whole situation, after packing his extra Sierra uniform he spent the next thirty minutes pacing his quarters listening to the loudest and most constant songs he could find in his collection of folk music. Since a large amount belonged to traditional Scottish groups, the melody of bagpipes filled his mind for the short half-hour. It was brought to a stop when Elisa walked in right at the thirty-two minute mark.

Elisa winced at the squeak of the bagpipes. "How do you stand it?" she asked when Reddy shut the music off.

Reddy sighed. "I'm not the largest fan, my mother just happened to loan me her collection before I left home back when I hit eighteen." he sat on the one sofa his room had. "How can I help you Elisa."

Elisa pulled the chair behind his desk and sat across his coffee table from him. "We've finished transporting the Marines over, once they are settled in we can ferry our people over, I contacted the _Mushashi's_ First Officer and she said that the officers of your section have been aboard since early this morning and are waiting on you."

Reddy nodded slowly. "Would it be wrong for me to let a Lieutenant to take over for me, and I just keep up the illusion that I am in charge?"

Elisa stared at him for a moment, she ran a hand up and down her right thigh. "In my opinion, yes. Letting him, or her, run the show would be worse than running the show badly." she moved her lips to one side in a sympathetic look. "I would ask them for help, but then I'm not you. It's all in how you do, you may be born to lead on the battlefield, or you may just need someone to guide you all the time." she thought for several seconds. "My father probably would look at me and tell me to get off my backside and get a good staff of intelligent people. Find the smartest of the group and don't surround yourself with friends, even if it makes you uncomfortable."

The words were wise for someone who spent most of her first month in Starfleet spitting drunk, and probably had wanted to kill Reddy more than the Klingons who had attacked them. But then she had been drunk then, and a lot recently, so whether she was giving her own advice, or quoting some person she had read about, was debateable.

Reddy stood and walked into his room. "Come'ere Elisa." he waved her after him.

Elisa followed him into the room and watched as he opened the top drawer. He left it open for her to see inside while he stepped back and sat down on the bed.

"Quite the piece." she commented. "Something special about it?" she paused and drew back. "Is this how you get women?" she joked.

Reddy scratched the beard he was to shave off before he left. "Don't be silly, you remember when I put that to your face?"

Elisa looked at the gun and took a step away from the drawer. "You kept it?" she asked, it had been a close shave for her, and she probably hadn't forgiven him for trying to kill her.

"It was given to me in the heat of battle, if I ever see that man again I'll give it back." Reddy sighed. "I've only really carried it for decoration, although it did come in handy against the Klingons on P'Jem. That said, I probably won't have time to use it, I'd rather have the efficiency of a hand phaser, and mobility as well." It was not likely that Reddy would ever bump into the man who owned the gun, yet his honor demanded it.

Elisa moved back and peeked at the gun. "What do you want me to do with it?"

"Take care of it, it may happen that someone ends up in my quarters for no reason at all. I would like it somewhere safe." It was actually because Reddy was afraid to die, and didn't want the rare artifact to be lost. His family was not fond of weaponry, Reddy being the only child to have any drawing towards a military uniform, and even if his father found the weapon it would probably end up in an incinerator like his grandfather's hunting rifle. To this day Reddy still wished he had saved the wooden flintlock before it had been destroyed forever.

Reddy could tell Elisa read between the lines. "Well," she said, taking the gun from the drawer. "I will take care of this, no promised that I won't forget about it or hide it from view."

Reddy managed a chuckle, he had never thought that the weapon would scare Elisa that much. "No problem, just take care of it for me."

Elisa was studying the peculiar holster for the gun when they were interrupted by the bridge. " _T'Vrell to Commander Reddy._ "

"Yes?" Reddy called out.

" _A Lieutenant Collier from_ Musashi _is requesting you come aboard, he is quite insistent._ "

"Thank you Bridge, inform Lieutenant Collier I'll be right over, have T'Kira meet me in the transporter room, Reddy out." Reddy stood and walked to the closet and grabbed his duffel bag.

"Friend of yours?" Elisa asked.

"No, Collier is one of the Lieutenants assigned under me. Probably the snob of the bunch, ether that or the person who should actually lead this show." Reddy didn't have much in the bag, he slung it over his shoulder.

Elisa stepped up and brushed a piece of lint off Reddy's shoulder. "Tell him to go to hell." she said, a fire in her eyes.

"Yeah, sure thing." Reddy shook his head and walked on his way.

"Or at least tell him that for me!" Elisa called after him.

"Right after I tell him myself." Reddy grabbed the briefcase of officer pins on his way out the door.

T'Kira met him on the transport pad with her own bag and a tapping foot. She seemed impatient to be on the way.

"We've cleared you for transport, _Musashi_ is waiting for you on the other end." the transporter chief informed them.

Reddy and T'Kira stepped unto the pad. "Energize." he said.

About two seconds later he stepped from the transporter pad on the _Musashi_ and was greeted by a tall and slim Bajoran woman.

"Welcome aboard Lieutenant Commander, I'm Commander Kel Nola, First Officer of this ship." she shook hands with both.

"Patrick Reddy, this is my security chief, Miss T'Kira." Reddy introduced them.

Commander Kel waved them forward. "I'll take you to where Collier and your section is waiting."

Reddy followed her out into the bustling halls of the _Galaxy_ -class cruiser.

"So, is this Collier an arrogant human, or is there something about his species I should know about?" Reddy asked Kel as they walked.

Kel looked at him. "Just arrogant." she walked closer to him. "I'm a full Commander, been in since I aced the test at sixteen, once of the youngest ever to attend Starfleet Academy. That leaves me twelve years to become a Commander. He's been in almost twenty years and still a Lieutenant, not that I blame him, it's just that he may not respond well to you as his commanding officers, no matter the stretch of time."

"He has a good right, I am only Brevetted my rank."

Kel stopped and faced him. "Commander, I would suggest you don't give ground to this man, he may almost be in his forties, and may have a vast amount more experience than you, but you can't give ground. I'd suggest you don't give him the chance to undermine you."

They had stopped right outside a large bulkhead. "Is this the room?" Reddy jabbed a finger at the door.

"Yes." Kel answered plainly.

"Then after your, Commander." Reddy smiled.

Kel gave a slight bow and keyed the door to open.

Reddy hung back and watched the Bajoran step into the room. The dialogue following her entrance came in a thin voice.

"Commander, I asked that the next time you set foot in this room you were accompanied by Lieutenant Commander Reddy." his voice was as unpleasant as his tone.

Reddy rounded the corner and spotted man, same height as he, holding an authoritative finger on Kel Nola. "I'm here Mister Collier, and I'd ask that you show Commander Kel proper respect."

Collier lowered his hand and glanced at the table behind him. "About time you got here."

Reddy closed the distance to the man, not taken to his harsh words. "Do you have something to say to my face, Lieutenant?" he stressed the title.

Collier didn't respond, he was surprised by Reddy's sudden attack. "I'm not comfortable serving under a Brevet Lieutenant Commander, _sir_."

Reddy sucked in air and let it out. "Mister Collier, I have been given authority over you, and the people in this unit. If you disagree you can take it up with Major General Lathbury and Admiral Yanishev or whoever is currently responsible for assigning personnel to this task force. Until then, if prefer to oppose my every word, I would suggest you do so from the other side of that door." he waved a hand towards the door to the room.

Collier appeared to be taken aback by the wording. "Pardon me sir." he said and backed to the side.

Reddy cast a stern glare after him and took the reprieve to study the room they were in. It was obviously one of the cargo bays, large containers and crates towered above them in the dark room, and a small flat table had been set in the center of the room. Four Lieutenants, five with Collier, were around the table, the senior officers of his unit.

Reddy stepped to the table and placed the box of insignia in front of him. "I will take time to get to know all of you, and I plan to pull upon your experience as much as possible. But first, since we will be in close work with the 3rd Regiment under Colonel Watts, we have been asked to wear these." he opened the box and slid it across the table to the four officers, Collier walked around and took his place with them as T'Kira stood halfway around the table. "The Marine's use a ranking system equal to ours, only a different name for each rank. All officers in our units will be required to wear such ranks." the officers took the ranks and began to study them, Reddy himself took an insignia from his right pocket and replaced his commander pips. Before long the whole table had changed their ranks.

"Now, I would like to know if any of you have begun organizing the personnel we've been assigned." Reddy asked, taking a seat at the table.

An Andorian man raised his hand, Reddy recognized him as Lieutenant Rynith Th'Roth of the _Khitomer_. "I've already spent some time organizing, I also had the help of a Benzite who organized the personnel by experience but also made sure that crewmembers from different ships stayed together. He also saw that combat leaders were selected by recent experience."

Reddy noticed that Collier was still standing. "Mister Collier, please be seated."

"I prefer to stand sir." Collier said defiantly.

"Then you can stand behind that door." he jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the bulkhead.

Collier's eyes narrowed there was a staring match. "I would like to see you make me, _sir_." he stressed the word a little too much.

Reddy looked at his hands, resting on the table. "Miss T'Kira, remove the good Lieutenant." T'Kira moved in the corner of his eye. When Reddy looked up Collier had sat and was looking at T'Kira with a surprised face. He looked at Commander Kel. "There is room for you at this table, ma'am."

Kel smiled. "Sorry, this doesn't directly involve me, I'll silently observe from these crates over here." she walked a few feet away and propelled herself unto a crate just higher than the table. She could view the briefing from above, and hear every word said.

"Please continue Lieutenant." Reddy signaled to Rynith.

"As I was saying, we have assigned the different units, each divided into groups of one hundred as the Marines asked, and assigned them common areas. This way they can interact and be close to their units come the day after tomorrow. I think we have formed an effective fighting force, if not somewhat large and cumbersome." the Andorian spoke quickly and constantly glanced about the table.

"Hopefully we will only be ordered to defend the landing zones. Alongside the comments, I spoke with Colonel Watts and have determined the designation of our units is Starfleet Detachment Three. Our size designation is a half-battalion, each of you five officers will be commanding what is known as a company, and below you should have units of twenty-five named platoons. I would suggest that these units are lead by experienced Chiefs." Reddy commented. "Please implement that into your current structure Mister Th'Roth."

Reddy thought. "Now, we need to see the landing zone, unfortunately all I have is a few two dimensional charts and the advice of a geographer. I do hope one of you was given a little more."

A female Caitian by the name of Csori reached under the table. "I happened to receive a holoemitter of the landing zone from an officer in the 1st Regiment." she place it in the center of the table and tossed Reddy a small tub with a number of buttons meant to control a measure of the images projected.

The image popped up of a plateau of gray rock and surrounded by a large amount of conifer-like trees. The ground was rough and uneven, with steep rocky faces surrounding.

"As you can see, we have been given a rather difficult area to defend, the terrain is rough, but there are locations that we can use to funnel the Borg in, defending others with minefields and small marksman nests." he activated the small wand he had and outlined the three areas. The first was a steady rocky slope, the only real obstical was the width of the front. "I want us split into several companies—"

Rynith slid his PADD across the table, Reddy studied it for several seconds. "I see Mister Th'Roth has done so for us already. . .very well then, A Company will be located here." he highlighted the area in bright red. "Mister Th'Roth is leading this company and should be able to come up with a tactic to defend it, I would suggest small pocket defenses, a line of pill boxes full of marksmen with trenches of regulars beneath them."

The second area was challenging, it was a large front of high rocks and flat grassy hillsides. "My command base will be centered here alongside Companies B and C, we'll dig a solid defense line and shore it up with wood and bags of dirt. We'll also focus our mortars on this stretch, and will have E Company stationed behind us as a reserve or fallback point." he paused. "Also, E Company will be split in half, with each half able to be deployed to either side at any time. Mister Collier I can trust you to move your men quickly and efficiently to A and D Company positions?"

"Yes sir." the defiance was gone from Collier's voice.

The final area might have been the most likely, if not for having the approach covered by rocks and thick shrubbery, but indeed a steep slope leading up to a grove of trees. "D Company will hold here, I expect the Borg will attempt this way, but I doubt they'll put much heart into it, this approach is the farthest from the Marine landing points and is easily defendeble. Also important for D Company, you must send fifteen men to connect with Starfleet Detachment Four. They'll be holding the impassable area to your north, just in case."

The human leading D Company nodded.

Reddy looked at Commander Kel. "Commander, I would like to know how we will be deployed."

Kel jumped down from where she had sat cross-legged on the crate. "We'll be sending your first teams down on a few of our Type 8 Shuttles, that will be the advanced teams following the pathfinders. They will light the landing zones for the Runabouts that will carry the rest of your force down."

"Will there be a queue?" Reddy asked.

"Since your units is the only Starfleet unit aboard this ship, not really, however airspace could be crowded and Air Division may wave some ships off. We expect we can have your people down in at least two hours."

"That's much too long." Csori said.

"I can't do much." Kel responded, shrugging her shoulders. "Anyone who tells the Air Division how to do something is held accountable for accidents, and we don't want to loose any of our ships anyway. You'll have to make do with two hours."

Reddy hunched his shoulders, it was the first he had heard of how long it would take to get his troops down, he had assumed that they would use the transporters to some extent. He asked Kel.

"It's the Borg, Commander," Kel shrugged again. "they'll be damned if they let us transport down, they've managed to blanket most of the planet in a disruption field, once down we can set up pattern enhancers to get supplies in and out, but I would never trust one, coming or going."

Reddy looked back at the surrounding commanders. "Well then it appears we'll be taking shuttles down. Now, I would ask that we dismiss to cover a few more areas." he took a number of PADDs from his bag and slid them across the table. "Use these to log the assignments you are about to be given, then dispute who will work on each assignment. First thing is communication, a Bernhard Morris will be coming aboard later with a few idea as to what form of communication we will be using. Another is supplies and gear. We need battle rations and powerpacks for our phasers, not to mention medical supplies; gear should involve our regular away team clothing, so Sierra Operations uniforms, combat boots along with tactical belts. However we need explosives including grenades, mortars, and landmines, which you can get from the Marines, to go with the Mortars our sappers will need. And finally we need tools to build our defensive lines. I want to stress the conservation of the energy in our phasers, so axes and shovels will do for the trenches and pillboxes. Finally we should ask about the Marines Corps for anything extra we can use, any special weapons or equipment, rations or powerpacks. I want to be the best equipped Detachment of the whole bunch, as since we are the only Detachment aboard, that should be quite easy." Reddy stood and the group followed suite. "I will also have a Rebecca Haymore coming aboard as well, she had been working with the Marines aboard my ship since we left Earth, she may be able to help us allocate extra weapons. Dismissed."

It seemed as his threat against Collier was still fresh on their minds, only Csori stopped to collecter her holoemitter. T'Kira stopped and said she would go and oversee the transport of the _Walker's_ crew over and left Reddy and Commander Kel in the room together.

Reddy stooped and grabbed his bag, Th'Roth had taken the case of Marine ranks with him, and waved a hand to follow Kel out.

"I was surprised by how you handled Collier." Kel said as they exited into the hall.

Reddy had a hard time getting the duffel settled on his shoulder. "I've knocked my First Officer down once or twice. The secret is not giving them the chance to speak or defy you, or never let them get away with it."

"Would you really have thrown him out of the room?"

Reddy thought about it. "Probably."

Kel chuckled. "Well Commander, you are quite the man, I have to say that you humans are the most surprising creatures I've ever met. Next to the Ferengi that is." she paused and looked at her watch. "Say, I've not had my lunch and we've got a man living in the forward lounge caught up on making human dishes. You hungry?" she asked him with a warm smile on her face.

Reddy stood there a for a second before he answered. "Sure thing, I didn't have any breakfast this morning I was so busy." he mainly said it to avoid a long and awkward pause between the request.

Thirty minutes, a plate of cornbread and other Southeastern America delicacies—Reddy knew about them from the years as Samantha O'Connell's friend—later they were conceding that the early lunch had been absolutely delicious.

It turned out that Kel was a fine person, she had funny Academy stories to tell and laughed at the few humorous ones Reddy had to tell. Along with her witty humor and quick divergence from gloomy topics, which was about all Reddy had to donate to the conversation, she was genuinely interested in human culture and several times asked about Reddy's ties to Scotland. While she was not well versed in Earth's geology, she did make a fair attempt to learn the difference between the countries of the Isle. Reddy was not positive if she understood the difference between an Irishman and a Scotsman, but Reddy made sure to separate where he grew up from his heritage.

"It seems odd that you would change so much from your heritage, I would think that you would have something of this Ireland inside you." Kel commented after he mentioned that he had grown up in Scotland but born of Irish parents.

"My eldest brother had gone to a boarding school for most of his life, by the time I was old enough to start having an accent imprint on me, he was the model I looked up to. I have to say that I prefer my brough, I knew a few kids who were bullied for not sounding Scottish."

Kel giggled, she apparently liked his accent by the way she looked at him each time he spoke. "Sounds like it was necessity."

Reddy sighed. "Well I wasn't the most likeable teen so I was lucky to avoid bullies."

Kel tilted her head at him. "You've told me a lot, and this has been a nice meal." she sat back and sighed, a second later she sat back forward. "I would just wonder, what have you planned for later today?"

The question, like the lunch invitation half-an-hour before, caught him off guard. He fumbled for words. "Umm. . .well I would ask why you ask?" the words were uneven and came out as if he were a boy asking a girl on date, and he had done that enough times to know what it sounded like.

"Well, the last person in my quarters knew how to reprogram a replicator and I get quite the dishes from it." She braced her head against her hand and stared at him with her soft brown eyes. "I have to go on duty and I'm saying I'd like to talk to you some more in our spare time."

Reddy wasn't sure what she was doing, in his mind it could be an invitation for a last minute romantic relationship, that was his hopeful side speaking, another part of his mind was arguing that he was about to be subverted to Bajoran rituals and victuals, either of which could drive him to his limit for a date.

Once again Reddy answered for the conversation's sake. "I-I-I guess so. What time?" he felt like an idiot fumbling with his words like a teenager again.

Kel thought for a moment. "My watch ends about eighteen hundred, how about 1845 then?"

Reddy found no nerve to protest and nodded his head rapidly. "Sure thing, I'll be on time."

"Good, see you then." Kel stood and left for her watch in less than five minutes.

Reddy watched the beautiful woman leave, once she left the diner he brought both hands to his face and suddenly considered what the hell he had done.


	68. Episode 6: Part 5

**Part 5**

 **USS** ** _Musashi_**

Sometime around 1730 Reddy found Bernie in the temporary communications lab that he and other members of Starfleet Detachment Three's commstaff had set up. He was busy arguing over whether they should use code or just transmit freely with an officer from the USS _Shillings Worth—_ **Time out! So for those of you who are unlikely fans of Samantha O'Connell and the USS Chillingsworth, it was actually supposed to be the Chillingworth from The Scartlett Letter, at the time of writing in the name Chillingsworth I did not realize that the name had no 'S' in it; now I had the option of naming the ship Chillingworth or changing the name entirely, I finally decided that from now on, O'Connell's ship shall be named Shillings Worth for reasons that it sounds better than a character's name. Also it allows for easy puns at your pleasure. And finally I would like to point out that Starfleet had the Crazy Horse, which should mean I can have the Shillings Worth. Thank you, back to the story—** that Reddy recognized as Ensign Adoq Wafit from the Academy. Unlike most officers in their class, Wafit had been given his rank before he even boarded the USS _Shillings Worth_ and had only played subordinate to Reddy when he was briefly Acting-Security Chief. He had heard that Wafit had been wounded in the Klingon attack on _Shillings_ _Worth_ and his job taken over by a Chief by the name of Kindrick. In a brief meeting with Sam O'Connell he had been told that something of a scandal had taken place when Kindrick did a better job than Wafit. He had yet to hear if any proper outcome had ever been reached.

"I'm telling you, we don't have the time to train everyone how to speak in code, that's why we have computers to do it on ships. I hear it can take up to six months to train a proper code talker for the Marine Corps, we don't have that kind of time." Bernie was busy checking hand-held units in a box while Wafit stood nearby with an upset look on his face.

"Well that's asking for us to get kicked, and it's the stupidest thinking I've ever heard from a human, and that's saying something concerning the state of the Security Section on my ship." as a Bolian, Wafit was prone to express his opinion too often, Reddy had gotten an earful of it in the few hours he had served aboard the _Shillings_ _Worth_. "As well as the fact we can recruit people with perfect memories, Vulcans per say."

Bernie slammed a hand-held back into its slot in the case. "No, and that's final Adoq."

Wafit noticed Reddy before Bernie. "Commander sir, you're in charge of this Detachment, I would like to know your opinion on this matter: do you think we should dedicate some hours to training our radio units to speak in code or not."

Reddy knew it was better to side with Bernie in this situation not only because he needed Bernie to help him, he also had no intention of learning code in the next few hours. "No code, we don't have time. No go do something useful."

Wafit stormed away. "Wretched humans." he said as he walked away.

"Sometimes I wish I had the nerve to punch Bolians when they speak their opinions out loud." Bernie was studying another unit.

Reddy placed his hands on the edge of the box Bernie was working in. "I need your help Bernie."

"With?" Bernie didn't look from the units he studied.

Reddy swallowed. "I was railroaded into a bit of a date with a certain First Officer of a _Galaxy_ -class starship."

Bernie paused and looked up. "Commander Kel?" he said, a broad grin on his face.

"Stop smiling, and yes." Reddy's voice was close to a whisper.

Bernie turned. "Rebecca, get over here." he shouted.

Reddy tried to make him keep his voice down but by the time the woman was close the Florida man was on the verge of laughter.

"Guess who has a date with _the_ Commander Kel Nola." Bernie quizzed Haymore.

It took her a second, but Haymore's eyes grew wide. " _No_." she said.

"Why is this funny? You should know I'm not good with women, Bernie." Reddy's face was red with embarrassment.

Bernie leaned over and placed his hands on his knees while he caught his breath. Haymore looked at him. "You do know who Commander Kel _is_ right?"

"First Officer of the Musashi and an extremely young Commander. Why the hell is this important?" he was practically willing them to listen to him for once.

Bernie straightened. "You may not realize it, skipping most social events at the Academy, but Kel Nola is the smartest, youngest, and probably the sexiest, graduate from Starfleet Academy. From what we know she is also the most popular First Officer in Starfleet currently, and most popular next to Captain Riker and his surviving compatriots of the _Enterprise_. Well, Commodore Horrocks aside."

Reddy squeezed the edge of the box of hand-held radios. "Bernie I swear to—"

Bernie suddenly acted as though someone called him. "What's that? I'll be right there." he bowed to Reddy and quick marched away.

Reddy was left dumbfounded with Rebecca, who was trying not to laugh. "Well what the hell am I supposed to do now?" he was ready to toss the box of units at the woman.

Rebecca kept trying to conceal her laughter. "Well, before a date I usually shower, sometimes take a drink to calm my nerves, and pray the night either ends with a kiss or in the bed."

Reddy glared at her. She laughed and walked away. Reddy tried to slow his breathing and force the blood away from his face. He finally decided that he'd take Rebecca's advice and get a shower.

A shower did some good, if not for the rather public place it had been taken, it might have restored Reddy's confidence in his ability to carry out a date with Kel Nola. He had brought one change of clothes, so his regular Odyssey would have to do, second he had to be sure not to start sweating as he thought of what he might say and do. As he took each painful step towards Kel Nola's quarters he felt as thought his heart would constrict and finally just stop working. It turned out that it didn't and he rang the chime to Kel's quarters at exactly 1846.

The door opened and Reddy was confronted by the sight of his life.

To the date, Reddy had slept with one woman, and by slept he meant sex. That one woman was a brown haired Scotswoman by the name of Karen Andrews, she had been the manager of the dorm he lived in for eight years at the Academy and tried to be his friend immediately. They had gotten along fine, both had many stories to tell and reminiscing to do about the wonderful Scotland they called home, and when January 1st had come, Karen had asked him into her large basement room. Since then, Reddy had looked at women, but most had been covered by the uniforms of Starfleet, which despite fitting well in some locations, dulled feminine features.

Kel Nola was wearing a dress that included two pieces of cloth that ran over her shoulders and connected to the main 'skirt' which only came up to directly below the breasts. The dress covered all of her cleavage, yet the skin between her breasts, her bare shoulders and neck, were are a tantalizing shade of tan only achievable from years of hard work in a field. Her brilliant red-blonde hair was loose and flowing over her shoulders and doubling the effect her body had on Reddy. Along with it the ridged nose that was the main feature of Bajorans added a hint of exotic to her appearance.

"Are you going to come in?" Kel smiled at him.

Reddy cleared his throat and stepped into the room. "Pardon me Commander, but I seem to have under dressed." he was visibly sweating and could feel the heat from her body she was so close.

Kel let out a chuckle. " _Lieutenant Commander_ , I'm not in uniform, just call me Nola." she lead him to the table.

"In that case, I would prefer you call me Patrick, or Mister Reddy in professional cases." the sweating was growing worse, Reddy was realizing that Nola would be looking for more than conversation, the thought both excited and terrified him, Karen Andrews had been as inexperienced as he, they had been, in a way, equals. Nola was four years above his twenty-eight and must have had a few more 'partners' than him.

Food was already sitting on the table.

"In professional cases?" Nola allowed Reddy to get her chair.

Reddy sat opposite. The table was set with a few loafs of bread and a large cake-looking piece of food. "I'm not comfortable going under the title I've been assigned, I prefer that people either call me 'Sir', or just by my name."

Nola leaned forward and looked closely at him. "Why?"

Reddy felt pressed. "It doesn't seem right that I should have the authority of a Lieutenant Commander, I failed to make it into Command School, and I'm not even commissioned. I feel as though I steal valor each time I go by the title of Lieutenant Commander, most men would have to wait ten years to get my rank, at least five."

Nola laughed and began to cut into the cake-looking food. "Hesperat Souffle, my flying instructor at the Academy taught me how to make it, he changed the recipe just enough to give it more zest, which goes good with the Kava Juice." She sliced it apart and loaded Reddy's plate. Reddy went on a limb and cut the bread and poured them both a glass of Kava juice. Once the food was set, and a brief Bajoran prayer said, they both picked at their food. "If that is the case, then I should feel ashamed for going by the title of Commander. Or even wearing a uniform, I made it in a sixteen, one of the youngest at Starfleet Academy, and for that I've become a Commander in a short a time as twelve years." She said after taking a few bites.

Reddy wet his throat with the zesty kava juice. "That's different, it at least took you a few years, I've hardly been in six months, and nobody has found the time to give me actual ranks yet. I'm just this jumped up cadet that everyone expects to do what a regular Lieutenant Commander does. They've even given me a ship, and command in three situations where everything is at risk."

"Three?"

"The first time I went to the Vega System, things to do with the Undine in the P'Jem system, and the second time to the Vega System." Nola nodded, Reddy sighed. "What's worse is that I am now expected to lead a group of experienced soldiers into combat, and I've only been in battle a few times."

"But for someone who has only six years of training, you have survived unscathed." Nola made it a compliment.

Reddy swallowed a bite of the souffle. "If I have seen further than others, it is by standing upon the shoulder's of giants. My victories are built upon the blood of my classmates, and I am not proud of it."

They ate in silence for several minutes, the souffle was delightful and was soon diminished to a few crumbs on their plates. The kava juice soon disappeared leaving only the bread sitting to the side.

Reddy wiped his mouth and considered what he had said. "I'm sorry Nola, I feel as though my life is one sob story after another, and I shouldn't have said what I did."

Nola stopped him with one hand. "Patrick, only the best will admit that. It is probably the greatest truth of them all, I've lost a few officers in my time. If you look back in history you see general after general revel in their victory built upon the bodies of their soldiers." she stood and moved to a closer seat right beside Reddy. "Patrick, don't let this hurt you so bad. Every person agrees to put their life on the line when they enter Starfleet Academy, in my opinion dying is part of the job. If you think about it, you and me are more likely to die than make Admiral at times like these."

Reddy stared at his hands on the table, from the corner of his eye he could see Nola had her right arm over the back of the dining chair she sat sideways on, her left leg was folded underneath her on the edge of the seat.

"I just feel like a cheat, I'm hoping they strip my rank and give me a tactical assignment once I get commissioned." He mumbled in defeat.

Nola grabbed one of his hands, he looked and was choked by the soft, beautiful, brown eyes. "You won't wish that some day, when you are under a captain and want nothing but a command of your own. Stop killing yourself Paddy, you're a smart man, and starting to be a popular man."

"I wanted a simple career Nola, something that could get a me a nice retirement, maybe a wife someday, something to impress my folks. Tell them I am patient, tell them I'm just as good as they are."

What Nola did next surprised Reddy despite his assumptions earlier. The Bajoran woman stood and sat across Reddy's lap. He suddenly couldn't breath as she hovered only a few inches from his face. "I've barely known you for an afternoon and I see you're more than just a boy from Scotland."

"I don't feel it." Was all Reddy could manage.

Nola closed the distance in a light kiss. "Patrick, I don't care if you don't feel it, just act it."


	69. Episode 6: Part 6

**Part 6**

It was like a lighting storm between them, Patrick was staring into the deep brown eyes and had a hand on the small of her back, his left still holding her right hand. Patrick had heard from friends that women with naturally red hair smelled better right before sex. He didn't know if it was true, but Nola had a wonderful scent, and if not for her mouth covering his, he could focus on that smell. The kisses lasted as long as they could hold their breath. Nola broke once long enough to straddle his lap. Her hands ran through his hair and her could feel her long Red hair brush against his shoulders and face as she leaned down to kiss him. Patrick ran his hands up and down her body and eventually tugged at the two pieces of cloth covering her bust. Nola leaned back long enough to give him a dirty look. Her hands went to her shoulders and pulled the pieces of cloth to the side, they dropped and opened up a fine view. Nola's head pitched back and she let out a low moan as Patrick pleasured her. She lifted his head and kissed him again.

Their kisses were interrupted long enough to move into the adjoining room and sit on the edge of Nola's bed. She began to unzip Patricks video, all the while barely under her own control as Patrick kept his mouth firmly around the tips of her breasts. The jacket was halfway off when Patrick's combadge interrupted them.

" _Triss to Lieutenant Commander Reddy, we are having a few problems down here with the Marine Quartermaster, could you join us in the main supply hold?_ "

Nola looked at him, her eyes said if he tried to leave she would take off his badge and force him unto the bed.

Reddy tapped the badge. "Negative, I'm currently otherwise engaged. Reddy out."

The two shared dirty smiles and went back to their task, Patrick groped around and found the zipper in the back of her dress. He began to work the dress down when he felt her hand gripping around below his belt.

" _Bridge to Commander Kel._ " the panel on Nola's stand sounded.

Nola placed a hand over Reddy's face to where he couldn't breath. "Nola here."

" _Lieutenant Commander Martin is unable to take the Last Watch, the captain has asked that you take this watch._ "

Nola grit her teeth at Reddy, who was beginning to miss the air in his lungs. "Understood, I'll be there right away. Kel out."

She drove her lips against Patrick's with a ferocity that hurt. She pulled back and looked sad.

"I guess I'll have to settle that dispute afterall." Reddy said, he felt as upset as Nola looked.

Nola nodded but didn't move, she stayed there, dress pulled down to her midrift and hair messy from Reddy running his hands through it. She had been waiting.

Reddy wondered if she would ever get off, he didn't mind her being on top of him, yet he was sure they needed to head to their duties. It wasn't until he attempted to stand that she kissed him one last time and walked to her dresser.

Reddy began to leave when she called him.

"Patrick!" she called. He turned and say that she had made herself modest. "My offer still stands, if you would be here after my watch."

Reddy couldn't answer, he turned and left without a word.

Bernie, Rebecca, Adoq Wafit, and Sarah Triss were all enjoying the vacated equipment room in the late hour. The room was stacked high with boxes of weapons, hand-helds, tactical belts and combat engineer kits. The evening lighting on the ship cast a slightly eerie glow to the room, but a circle of boxes around a small table did well to serve their needs to play card games. After a few rounds of hearts, they quickly descended to playing poker and soon making a prank call on Patrick Reddy.

It had all been quite humorous, so much so that Sarah and Rebecca had had a hard time not laughing when the Scotsman responded. All of them had a hard time enjoying anything else for the rest of the evening until a figure appeared at the edge of their circle.

"Problem with the Quartermaster eh?" Lieutenant Commander Patrick Reddy retorted, staring about the four culprits.

Bernie swallowed. "I thought you were," he held up two hands for quotation marks, "'otherwise engaged'." Sarah and Rebecca giggled at the comment.

"Nothing happened." Reddy grabbed a box and turned it on it's edge sitting at the edge of the table next to Wafit and Rebecca.

Rebecca tugged a bit of hair. "And did you happen to get frustrated during the engagement."

Reddy realized he had forgotten to smooth his hair out. "We had a heated argument about a few things, it wouldn't have gone anywhere but down if she hadn't been called to the bridge."

Sarah and Bernie chose to misinterpret that and grinned at each other. "Stop it you two." Reddy snapped.

"It's no shame to admit that you were bedding a higher rank, and a very smart and beautiful one at that. I'm not one to divulge in such pleasures, but I believe that you struck gold." Wafit pitched into the conversation.

Reddy covered his face with one hand. "How mature can a bunch of Starfleet cadets _not_ be?" he said through his hand.

Bernie chuckled. "If you don't want to be picked on, you might want to speak to the principle."

The poker went on close to midnight, they had no proper chips to play with, they instead consisted of radio batteries and a couple of powerpacks with their value multiplied by ten. It ended sometime around 2345 when Wafit finally fell asleep on the box he sat, it was the action of him falling forward and knocking a massive bet into the air that ended the game. Bernie threw his hands into the air and collected the packs to return them to their cases. Rebecca yawned and went off to her cot, wherever it may be, alongside Sarah. Wafit would have been fine on the cold floor but a good kick from Bernie made him get up and leave.

What disturbed Reddy was that few words were said to him, the whole group left him sitting on his box staring at the boxes about him. He felt forgotten, and was not tired at all. He returned the box to it's rightful place and stared it's elevated position.

"You're just a king of the hill aren't you?" he turned and left the cargo bay. He took a random turn and began walking.

Reddy's grandfather had always told him: "When you're in a place you don't know well, you're bound to find your way around the tiny amount you know. Even if you take a random route, laddie." it hadn't made much sense, but it applied when he found himself outside Kel Nola's quarters.

It was just after midnight, about fifteen minutes into the new day and he stood staring at the solemn door in the empty hallway. He had put it aside, embarrassed by his affair with Nola, but he remembered her invitation to meet her after midnight. For a moment he was torn thinking that she would forget as well, but he hit the button with the thought that he had nothing to loose.

The door opened and Nola stood there in full uniform.

Reddy opened his mouth to speak when she grabbed him and pulled him through the door. The door slid shut behind him and he heard it lock. Then his back was against the door as Nola kissed him furiously. He fell into the kiss and kissed her back, his hands ran along her back, focusing just below the small of her back. Nola pulled back and smiled at him.

She took him by one hand and lead him to the other room.


	70. Episode 6: Part 7

**Once again I was struck by Procrastination and before long I'll be starting at college *sigh*. I'm gonna try and keep it up, mainly because I can't get all the different scenarios out of my head. I should probably offer a thank you to Jasmin Kenobi, if she is still out there, for being one of the reasons I keep doing this. Nothing weird, it's just nice to have someone giving you feedback on the odd occasion.**

 **Part 7**

Patrick wasn't quite sure which he was more ashamed of, not holding out the night, or sleeping with Kel Nola in the first place. He had tussled with duty and emotion like T'Kira, not quite as much, and had won emotion in that case, but now he lay with a full Commander and the First Officer of a _Galaxy_ -class at that! Not holding out the night was a question of whether Patrick was weak from lack of experience, or Nola was strong from _too_ much experience. Either way, the morning came with Nola's arm across Pat's chest and her head on the pillow next to his.

It became problematic, Nola had muscular arms that would tighten around him out of reflex, and her proximity to him would have made it difficult to slip away as well. But on top of that was the orientation of the bed which placed it where Patrick, sleeping to the port side of the ship, would have had to stand straight up in the bed and walk across to the edge. Either that or somehow switch places with the attractive Bajoran and slide away to starboard.

Pat slowly gripped Nola's arm and began to remove it, lifting it up and down towards her side. Halfway through the motion it slipped out of his grip and tightened it's grip around him. Nola groaned at her morning soreness and nestled closer to him.

"What time is it?" she mumbled against her pillow.

Patrick lifted his head and checked the chronometer on her nightstand. "O-five hundred."

Nola groaned and gripped him tightly. "Good, three more hours."

When Patrick tried to leave again she held him back, he turned on his side and stared her in the eyes. "We've got work to do."

Nola opened an eye. "Do you always rise this early?" she mumbled.

Patrick was confused. "Were you not up early at the academy?"

Nola let him go a rolled unto her back. "Oh, I suppose I was, it just the worst years of my life. Crammed in study halls and graded on tests, every day for almost four years dedicated to getting a pip on your collar, and a few more after that." she sighed as she stared at the ceiling. "I'm glad I did it, but I wouldn't do it again for the world."

Patrick sat up and began to pushed his covers off.

"Don't go." Nola said, bringing Patrick to a halt.

Patrick wanted to get an early start and have the rest of the day to fix any problems that turned up so the jump off, which before dawn tomorrow morning, would be a smooth as possible. Yet Nola's pleading voice and the warmth of her sheets drew him back into the lazy slumber. He began to flip the covers aside.

"We've got work to do, me a unit to lead, you duties as a First Officer." he began to remove his torso from the bed, which was awkward seeing neither of them had put clothes on after last night and he would be exposed until fully dressed.

A hand suddenly gripped his arm, Nola's eyes were deep and longing when Reddy next looked. "I don't have to be on the bridge until the afternoon watch, and you won't be here that much longer."

Reddy so wanted to be there, be in her bed and under her sheets, with only air between them when they were separate. "Nola don't think that." he said in his most comforting tone.

Nola sat up, the sheets slid away to be pleasantly revealing, her hand still gripped Patrick's arm. "Pat, I have met very few people worth knowing since I joined Starfleet, not because they are boring, or because they are ugly, but because all of them want my pity. I never asked them to tell me how bad their lives are, or were, or what they want in the future, until I met you." she pressed her forehead against his. "Pat, I don't care if they cancel the operation, I want to be with you now, here. Just relax now, it will do you a world of good."

Reddy didn't know if it was sexual love, or pity for Nola that kept him in the bed until almost ten o'clock, and he was once again wondering what he should be more ashamed of: sleeping late or sleeping with Nola in the first place. He decided to put it aside and focus his energies on Detachment 3.

It turned out Haymore, Morris, T'Kira and Triss were all on top of things alongside officers from the other ships that donated personnel to Detachment 3, they had allocated extra weapons, kits, rations, and ordinance for the entire group. They held a showcase just before lunch time in their makeshift armory in a cargo bay next to the engine section.

"As it turns out, the Marines have developed a number of weapons for defensive purposes. These weapons are heavier and more hardy, but most importantly they are built to fire rounds in rapid succession." she opened a case and lifted a massive weapon from it. "They've got the same range as our rifles, but carry twice the firepower at a quicker rate than our weapons." she seemed to pause as she looked at the large weapon. "The biggest difference is that there is no stun setting, Starfleet has cleared them for use against the Borg, but all other operations are off the table."

One of the female lieutenants stepped up and tried to lift the weapon. She swore as it didn't budge from the cradle it sat in.

"How the hell are we supposed use this if I can't even lift it?" she asked angrily.

Rebecca grabbed the weapon and suddenly split the center portion. "The biggest part of this weapon is the power pack, which weighs close to thirty pounds, the gun it's self is about as heavy as three rifles put together, and the only other piece of equipment needed is a tripod to set it up on." she reached behind her and pulled one up after setting the heavy power pack down.

"You're telling me we need three people to carry a single one of these guns?" Collier's voice was demanding in his inquiry, possibly in an attempt to intimidate Rebecca.

"Most likely, which is why I said it was built for defense, all we have to do is get them to their earthworks and we don't have to worry."

"What if we are overrun?" Collier had stepped forward, his lumbering form and hard voice had little effect on the woman.

"Then I suppose you will have to help your company carry them." Rebecca retorted.

Reddy, seeing the tension, stepped forward and interjected. "Colonel Mills' regiment is planning on overrunning our positions shortly after we land, if all goes to plan, we won't have to do any retreating until the 2nd Division arrives."

"And the Brits thought they could drive sixty miles on a one tank front." Collier mumbled as he retreated back into the audience.

Reddy pressed his lips together in frustration at the man, he knew the reference from several history classes and didn't much like it. He faced the gathered officers. "I know you're not happy about this mission, I have my doubts about it too. But we don't have much choice if we are to eradicate the Borg presence here in the Vega System, I tell you this, if you plan to rebel and desert, do it now while we can replace you, and not in the heat of battle. But if you plan to join us in the fight, I'd ask that you give your all, and anything extra you come by." a few faces tried to avoid his gaze. "All we have to do is hold long enough for the 2nd Division to arrive, not much more." He stepped back into the crowd and nodded for Rebecca to continue.

The day was spent arming Detachment 3 and going through the defensive strategy twice more. They checked the docking ports where they would board their shuttles, and checked that all materials were aboard, and finished the day with a combat rations meal and an early bed time.

A curfew was set to see that all hands participating in the attack would not in their bunks in time to get eight hours of sleep before their 0430 reveille in the morning, the only people allowed to stay up were the officers and supply masters as they made their final arrangements.

Reddy, T'Kira, and Rebecca had been some of the few to stay up. All three had chosen to be in the lead groups landing in the Type 8 shuttles rather than come along in Runabouts, and had volunteered to load the final bits of equipment unto the ships. They stayed up two hours later while they made a final check of the FOB (Forward Operating Base) equipment. As they finished Reddy leaned against the rearward hatch of the Runabout and looked at the silent hanger bay—the modified Runabouts had an assault ramp in the rear which allowed for quicker loading and unloading like that of the Type 8 shuttles, it also made loading cargo easier as well.

Rebecca stepped down the ramp, PADD under one arm, and gazed at the silent room as well. "It's hard to believe just what Starfleet is doing." she commented silently.

Reddy wasn't much in the mood for conversation but sighed and answered. "And what do you mean by that?"

Rebecca shrugged. "Well, I spent an entire semester doing nothing but history classes at the Academy, probably the biggest engagements we ever had were in the Dominion War, and after reading about them I wondered how Starfleet, or the Federation, could ever condone full scale combat like that again? I understand they don't like it, many may want Starfleet disbanded, but I just don't see how they can send so many people into battle." She sighed and looked at her feet.

Reddy thought for a moment. "It's necessity, we can't leave a Borg occupation in the Vega System, it's practically asking the enemy to attack, asking them to kill us all in only a few years from now." he nodded slowly. "Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duties, and so bear ourselves that, if the British Empire and its Commonwealth last for a thousand years, men will still say, 'This was their finest hour.'"

"Winston Churchill, 1940." T'Kira came out of the hold and ushered them off the ramp.

"How do you know that?" Rebecca asked, annoyed at the Vulcan's bossy attitude.

T'Kira closed the rearward hatch and turn to the black woman. "I took history as well, and as a Vulcan I have a much better memory than most humans."

Rebecca was about to lash out at the Vulcan but Reddy stopped her. "I'm going to just go ahead and say good night, I think we have more important things on our plate than these types of arguments."

And with a long walk back to their quarters, in which each would be cocooned in their own thoughts, and laying down to sleep in the cots strung throughout the halls of _Musashi's_ engineering section, the day ended as they were once again on the brink of another holocaust.


	71. Notice to the Readers

**Dear readers, future and past.**

I would like to start by offering a thank you to all of you who have read this far, or for those of you who are about to start reading. Unfortunately, for more experienced readers, the early chapters, and the story in it's whole, is riddled with hypocrisy, continuity errors, and general problems in conflict with established cannon. Most of all there are major problems with spelling and grammar.

In my defense I began writing this fanfiction back when I had only just convinced my family to begin watching the Star Trek TOS, I had very little experience other than Star Trek Online (Which is a poor source of information).

I have decided to rewrite this story in a slightly more appealing and original fashion. Disclaimer: my primary aversion to the Star Trek reboot is the fact that all the main cast are simply given their positions after saving earth. (Not even Lieutenant Hopper in Battleship did that, he just got promoted and posted to another ship) And in The Great Arc i did the same thing with Patrick Reddy.

Another problem is the name of the main character. Originally I felt fine about this small plagiarism of Taylor Anderson, I almost felt it was something of a compliment and an advertisement of Mr. Anderson's work. I also used the name _Walker_ that I learned from his works as well. I have decided that using the name was not exactly the most honorable thing to do, seeing as Mr Anderson has not released _Destroyermen_ up to outside works.

The most important part is my sense of modesty. I started The Great Arc as something of a sexual fanfiction story with a bit of backstory so you knew the characters before they started getting it on. Upon the release of this message, I will be erasing all of the chapters that include explicit content. Star Trek has pushed the boundaries of many social problems, but I doubt they'll ever push the boundaries of sexual content in something meant for a general audience. I will still have relationships and some scenes, but nothing more explicit than what you would see in a Star Trek movie or TV show.

Some things you might ask.

 **When will the rewritten version come out?**

Well. . .that could be awhile. Inspiration drives my productivity, and currently college takes up about half of my time. I tend to write the entire stories together and publish them in large blocks, with the pilot story being extra long. I will leave the old version up for future readers as well as the rewritten new version.

 **What should I do in the mean time?**

Find another person to read, read my stuff, rant about CBS and Star Trek Discovery. I don't know, why are you asking me?

 **Can I pitch in?**

 _YES!_ I've always asked this of the readers of this fanfiction, and I ask it of you. Please submit as much as you like through Private Message, please submit it as an outline and have an amount of detail into it. If you talk to me enough I can work with you to make a good story.

 **Any spoilers?**

 _ **NO, not now, not ever.**_

 _ **Okay, I'll start the series in the year 2408 and continue from there.**_

If enough people are reading this, thanks.

Peace and long life.


End file.
